He turned his head in her direction and jerked away from the pretty redhead. He adjusted his glasses and wiped his hands on his slacks. Gulping, he said, “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Oh, what a relief. Here I thought you were shoving your tongue down this woman’s throat.” She got a mild sense of satisfaction in watching the other woman blush in shame.
Mike blinked three times, his face getting paler with each passing second. “Julian is a friend I knew years ago. She just got out of a bad relationship. I was comforting her. I didn’t plan this.”
Megan set her hands on her hips. “Well, she must feel very comforted now!” She grunted under her breath. Noting the people who turned to stare at them, she snapped, “What are you looking at?”
Most of them had the decency to turn back to whatever they had been doing. Only two snickered at her. Ignoring them, she forced her attention back to the pond scum.
Mike’s mouth formed an ‘o’ before he winced. Throwing his hands up in the air, he said, “Okay. I was kissing her.”
Stiffly smiling, she asked, “Guess what happens now?”
He shrugged. “What?”
“We’re over!”
She didn’t care that she screamed. He was lucky she didn’t throw something at him. The jerk! Here she was, ready to turn thirty-five, her biological clock ticking against her, and the one man who passed all of her mother’s stupid qualifications ruined everything for her. Her dreams of a husband and children vanished and all she had left was another wasted year of her life! Curse him!
Spinning on her heel, she stormed up the aisle.
“Can I have the ring back?”
She stopped. Her mouth formed a tight line and her nostrils flared. Looking at the chubby young man who held a book, probably pretending to read it since it was upside down, she tapped him on the shoulder. His eyes widened and he dropped the book.
She bent to retrieve it. “May I borrow this?”
He nodded.
Grasping the book in her hands, she stomped to her ex-fiancé and smacked him on the side of the head. His glasses fell off his face and landed on the carpet in front of him.
“Hey!” he shouted. “There’s no need to get violent.”
“You’re lucky this is all I’m going to do to you, pal!” She held up her hand and inspected the diamond. It sparkled in the moonlight. She couldn’t decide if it mocked her or applauded her. “This ring is for pain and suffering. I’m going to hawk this baby.”
She shot Jillian a nasty look before she hastened back down the aisle. Muttering a thank you to the chubby man, she threw the book in his direction and marched forward, deciding to get off the train at Fargo. She’d find the first flight home and put this horrible mess behind her.
Just as she made it to the snack area, she saw a man in a plaid red and white shirt racing toward her. Startled, she stilled her movements.
The man named Ted, who she’d seen earlier, emerged from the snack car. His traveling companion followed behind him but remained out of the aisle. Before Megan could warn him to stay back, the bearded man ran into her, shoving her against Ted. A fourth man rammed into them, causing them all to fall to the floor. Megan fell on top of Ted while the other two fell on top of her. She closed her eyes from the impact. The next thing she knew, the two men got off of her and sprinted down the aisle.
Opening her eyes, she pushed off the red carpet and got to her feet, stumbling as the train swayed her off balance. The thick cigar smoke stung her eyes. She rubbed her eyes and coughed. She couldn’t remember being accosted by this much smoke since she went to a bar a decade ago.
“What on earth...?”
She recognized the voice of the man next to her. Darting a glance in Ted’s direction, she noticed that he examined their surroundings. Wondering what held his interest, she blinked back her tears and froze. They stood in the middle of the aisle of what looked like...
She shook her head and rubbed her eyes again. It couldn’t be. There was no way! Opening them, her jaw dropped. This isn’t possible. Though the words cycled through her mind, she couldn’t deny what she saw. It was no longer night. It was day!
Sunlight poured through the windows and onto the women who whispered to each other and placed their hands over their children’s eyes. She looked down at her shirt and shorts and then back at them. They wore dresses that covered them from their necks all the way down to their ankles. Not a single woman wore pants or shorts. They also wore hats or bonnets.
A man snickered at her and that’s when she realized that over half the male passengers leered at her, openly enjoying the view of her bare calves. Feeling oddly exposed, she dodged behind Ted to hide herself from the men. She had her back to two women who motioned for her to get away from them, but she refused to budge. She was safer with them at her backside than in front of the letches.
When the train lurched to the side, she wrapped her arms around Ted’s waist. This made him lose his balance so he reached out to the seat in front of him to steady them both.
“Shameful,” the woman behind her muttered to her friend. “Now I’ll have to go to church and confess to the priest.”
“Where did she and her lover come from?” the other one wondered.
“I don’t know. It’s like they appeared right out of thin air.”
Studying the cramped train car, Megan realized it had to be an older version of the one she had just been riding. The car contained a good number of passengers so that the car was almost full. Some people returned to their conversations while others continued to stare...and leer…or shake their heads at her.
A movement caught her attention. She looked at the man on her right who tipped his hat to her. “You can sit here.” He winked and patted the empty seat next to him.
Shuddering, she pressed her face into Ted’s jacket. She felt a strange calm at the outdoorsy smell of the cologne he wore. He seemed to be the only solid thing she had to hold onto, and since he didn’t tell her to let go, she remained still.
The train slowed to a stop, making her sway again. She tightened her hold on him, using more force than she planned. “Sorry,” she mumbled, pulling away once she could stand on her own.
“It’s okay,” he assured her.
“Fargo, North Dakota!” the conductor yelled.
Ted hastened to the exit, and she followed, eager to get off the train and find out what was going on. As soon as she set foot on the platform, more people stopped to stare or snicker at her. She ignored them. When she saw the sign on the platform, she gasped. Ted uttered a curse word, one which she agreed with since it described their predicament to a ‘T’.
The sign on the platform read Northern Pacific Railway. Welcome to Fargo!
Between the clothes people wore, the look of the train, and the building, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that they had somehow traveled back in time. But how far back? That was the immediate question. She paid no mind to the hollers from a couple of men as she ran into the station. Her eyes scanned the dim room until she found a newsstand. Rushing to it, she slapped the counter to get the balding fat man’s attention. It worked. The man, who had been kneeling in front of a stack of newspapers, looked up at her.
“What year is it?” she demanded.
He furrowed his eyebrows at her.
“Never mind.”
She snatched a paper and searched for the date. Her heart leapt into her throat.
Ted hurried over to her, tipping his blue cap back.
She knew what he wanted to know, so she handed him the paper before he could ask for it.
The newspaper man grabbed the paper from Ted. “That ain’t free.”
Ted faced her. “Saturday, April 23, 1898?”
What could she say? She was as baffled as he was.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “How did this happen?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Bald guy poked her in the arm. “You touch it, you buy it.” He turned his
palm up and wiggled his fingers at her. “Pony up.”
Groaning, she rummaged in her pocket and threw a dollar bill at him, not realizing her mistake until he growled at her.
“You joshing me?”
“I don’t have anything else to give you.” Seriously, if she knew she’d end up in the 19th century when she boarded the train, she would have prepared for it. How? She didn’t exactly know, but she could have done something.
He took a deep breath and hollered, “Marshal! I need a marshal!”
Ted sighed. “Look, she’s not trying to rob you. You have your paper. All we wanted to know was the date.”
“Then pay for it!”
“I would if I had 1898 currency. But I don’t.”
“Marshal!”
She huffed. “We did nothing wrong. You have no right to call the cops.”
Someone sauntered her way.
She jerked at the smiling stranger who fiddled with the gold pocket watch in his hand. His slick black hair matched his thin mustache that he had curled at the ends. She could feel him undressing her with his eyes. Oh great. Another creep. Crossing her arms in a pathetic attempt to conceal the curve of her breasts, she edged closer to Ted.
“Are you on your way to Madam Constance’s bordello?” the creep asked.
Shaking her head, she asked, “Madame Constance’s what?”
Balding guy grabbed creepy guy’s suit jacket. “She ain’t going nowhere ‘till I get paid.”
“I’m sure she can oblige you in non-monetary ways.”
The meaning of the creep’s words sunk in. He reached for her arm, so she slapped his hand. “Don’t touch me!”
“If you didn’t want to be touched, then why are you wearing undergarments?”
“Undergarments?”
He motioned to her clothes. “Sure. You don’t see any other woman wearing those things, do you?”
“Where I come from, I am fully dressed.”
“And where would that be?” another man asked from the edge of the group of ten men who had gathered in a circle nearby to watch her.
Ted took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She zipped it up. Good heavens, she actually felt like she wore nothing but a bra and panties with the way these letches ogled her. She silently thanked Ted as he stepped in front of her so the men couldn’t see her.
Ted made a shooing motion with his hands. “Okay. The show’s over. Be gone.”
She peered around his arm and watched the men leave, most of them grumbling.
A clean shaven man wearing a burgundy vest with a silver star attached to it marched up to them. He tipped his brown hat and set his hand on his holster. “Someone call for me?”
The balding man hurried to the marshal’s side. “I did. Those two stole from me.”
“We did not,” Ted argued.
“They did. They looked at the paper. Then they didn’t pay for it.”
“We just wanted to know the date.”
“And you got it. Now pony up.”
“We would if we could.” Ted took off his cap and ruffled his hair. “We don’t want any trouble.”
The marshal released his hold on the holster. “You two don’t look like trouble.”
Megan closed her eyes. At least someone was showing some common sense.
“However,” he continued as he studied her, “I can’t let you loose in town dressed in nothing but unmentionables. It wouldn’t be right. And you,” he turned to Ted, “need to go to the bordello if you wish to engage in this kind of behavior.”
Ted tensed. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I don’t even know her.”
“I am not a prostitute,” she hissed.
The marshal raised an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me.”
Baldy handed the marshal the dollar bill she gave him. “Look at that. She called this money.”
The marshal frowned. “This is suspicious.”
“Didn’t I tell ya?”
Nodding, the marshal pointed to them. “You’re coming with me.”
“To jail?” Ted asked.
“I have to check this out.”
“No way!” she protested.
“My word is law, ma’am. Either you come with me willingly or I drag you in. Which do you prefer?”
Her gaze shifted to the other two men. Baldy had a smug smile on his face. Ted rolled his eyes but didn’t protest.
She groaned. “Fine. I’ll go. But no one’s touching me.”
Chapter Three
Saturday, April 23, 1898
4pm
Fargo, North Dakota
Ted put his head in his hands, not believing what was happening to him. Or to the woman who traveled in time with him, for that matter. How did they even arrive in the past? He wanted to deny it, to think it was a horrible dream, but each time he pinched himself, he knew he was awake. So now he found himself in one cell while she was locked in another one. Since she was a woman, the marshal insisted she get the cell that was vacant. Lucky him, it meant he had to share his small space with a drunk who snored on the cot.
Ted shifted on the hardwood floor, his bottom sore from spending the past hour on it. His back was to the bars, the metal pressing into him. He didn’t care. He had to think. How did he travel back to April 23, 1898? How could he return to his correct time? He thought long and hard. At least, he tried to think long and hard. It was almost impossible to think of anything when his traveling companion insisted on screaming for the marshal every five minutes.
She found a tin cup that had been left on the floor and strummed it against the bars. “I demand a lawyer! Do you hear me, Marshal? I’m an American citizen and I know my rights.”
Ted groaned. How did the drunk sleep through this racket? The headache in Ted’s head intensified with each slide of that obnoxious cup. “Will you please stop?” he finally asked when he couldn’t take it anymore.
She paused and looked at him from the cell adjoining his. “We need to fight this injustice. We don’t belong here. We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I know. But for some reason, we’re stuck in this time period, and we need to figure out how to get back.”
She pressed her forehead against the bars and sighed. “If I knew how we got here, then it’d help.”
He saw the flicker of fear in her eyes and couldn’t help but sympathize with her. Well, of course, he sympathized. He was in the same spot she was! He rubbed his temples. “I don’t know what to do. Neither one of us woke up this morning with a plan to come here.”
“At least you’re fully dressed.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re fully dressed too.” When he saw her motion to her shorts, he grinned. “Right. You’re not fully dressed for 1898.”
She groaned. “I’m glad you’re finding humor in this situation.”
“Would you like to wear my jacket? You could wrap it around your waist.”
“You wouldn’t mind? I do feel exposed.”
She glanced at her legs. He glanced at them too. They were nice legs. Long and slender. His eyes traveled back up to her face. She was pretty. Shoulder-length blond hair with straight bangs, brown eyes, and rosy lips. The rest of her looked just as good. She had curves everywhere a woman should have curves. Yes, he decided. She looked very nice.
She cleared her throat.
He blinked and stood up. His cheeks grew warm as he shrugged off his jacket. He hadn’t meant to stare at her. He handed her the jacket.
She wrapped his jacket around her waist. “My name is Megan Crane.”
“Ted Jacob. So where were you headed when we were on the train?”
“Seattle. You?”
“Libby, Montana.”
“Haven’t heard of it.”
“Not many people have. It’s small.”
A door opened and they turned their attention to the marshal who stepped into the building with two women in tow. The women gasped. One placed her hand over her eyes and the other put her hand over her mouth.
Megan rolled her eyes. Ted wished he could jump into the cell with her and block her from their view. He appreciated the fact that the marshal had the decency to avert his gaze from her. Though Ted didn’t know her, he felt protective of her, almost as if she was his sister. Well, maybe not a sister. That would be going too far. She was much too attractive to be a sister.
He forced his mind onto the marshal and the two horrified women. The woman who held her hand over her eyes also held an ankle-length brown dress. She crept forward until her outstretched hand hit the bars of Megan’s cell. “Please, put this on.”
Megan grumbled but snatched the dress from her.
“Tell me when you’re decent,” the woman said. “Aaron, don’t you dare look at her!”
The marshal shrugged and turned around so his back was to them. “I wasn’t looking at her.”
“Well, there’s no need to fight temptation.”
Ted almost felt as if he should also turn around since the other woman promptly turned as well, but Megan kept her shirt and shorts on. She handed him his jacket and stepped into the dress. He didn’t think anything of it, but he reasoned that in the 21st century, this was tame compared to the kind of things he’d seen on TV. Usually, women took stuff off.
When she finished buttoning the dress, he hid his laughter as she grunted in disgust. The dress hung on her like a frumpy blanket. He knew she hated it but to her credit, she cheerfully announced that she was decent.
The women breathed an audible sigh of relief. The marshal also turned but gave no indication as to what his thoughts were.
The woman who had handed her the dress spoke. “My name is Esther Thomas, and this is my sister Miriam Smith. Marshal Aaron Thomas is my husband.” She came closer, her short and stocky frame giving her the appearance of waddling toward the blond. She had big blue eyes and a kind smile. “I don’t come here to judge you. I just want to do what’s right.”
Megan’s eyebrows furrowed but she smiled. “That sounds…good.”
Megan darted a look in his direction and he shrugged. What man understood women when they plotted anything? Such guesswork did not appeal to him.
Miriam, a thinner version of her older sister, bobbed her head up and down like one of the bobble heads of a baseball player he had put on his desk at work. “Good. We are very pleased you agree. It really is the best thing.”
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