by Kit Morgan
But then she was distracted by the landscape. “Oh my …”
“What is it?” Jeff asked.
They were crossing rolling prairie like the ones Clear Creek Road ran through on the way to Canyon Park. It was some of the last untouched prairie in the state – one more reason Clear Creek attracted tourists. “How close are we to Canyon Park?”
“I’m sorry – Canyon Park?” Colin asked.
Crud – how was she going to explain this? If she was right – a big if – it probably wasn’t a park yet. “Um … big stretch of Clear Creek Gorge where it spreads out. The annual town picnic is held there, and there’s this ginormous oak tree they call ‘His Majesty,’ and –”
“Oh – I know where you’re talking about!” Colin said in happy recognition. “We’ll pass it on the way home. Our home, I mean.”
“Canyon Park,” Belle mused. “Most people just call it ‘Cooke’s Canyon’.”
“Can I ask a favor?” Lorelei continued. “When we get close enough to His Majesty, close enough to see it, could … could you pull over? I’d like to see it.”
“You’ve never seen it before?” Jeff wondered.
“Well, I have, but … well, I’ll explain when we get there.”
“It’s so cold out,” Belle mentioned.
“Please. It’ll all make sense if I can see it.”
“If you’re sure.” From the sound of Colin’s voice, he wasn’t.
“You’re trembling,” Jeff said softly. He took off his coat and placed it around Lorelei’s shoulders.
Lorelei’s heart skipped a beat. No one had ever done anything like that before. “I, I really can’t …” She tried to remove it.
He stopped her. “We’re almost home. And I insist.”
They locked gazes and something cut through the fear in her gut. Something nice … “Thank you,” she whispered.
“It’s the least I can do. You’ve been through a horrible ordeal, haven’t you?” He spoke softly, as if he didn’t want his parents to hear.
She almost started laughing again. “Oh, you have no idea.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes before she recognized more of the landscape. Her eyes grew round as she looked to the left and noticed the canyon. She tried to stand.
“What are you doing?” Jeff asked in alarm.
She ignored him and got to her feet. Though the canyon was off Clear Creek Road about a quarter mile, you could see it. “Oh my Lord.”
He stood too. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Tears streamed down her face, but she said nothing. The only possible truth was staring her in the face. You could spend millions on a practical joke, but a landscape was a landscape – it couldn’t be faked. “Yep. That cinches it.” She sat back down.
“Cinches what?” Jeff said in confusion as he plunked back down beside her.
“Here we are,” Colin said, pulling the horses to a stop. “There’s the canyon, and if you were to walk to the beginning of the road leading down into it, you can see the topmost branches of His Majesty. Does that help, Miss Carson?”
Surprisingly, it did. “Tells me what I need to know. Jeff … may I ask you a personal question?”
“Um, I, uh, guess so.”
“How old are you?”
“Just turned eighteen, ma’am.”
She knew she had to do this before she lost her nerve. Either she was right, or she was nuts. “And when were you born?”
Jeff looked confused, as if she should be able to calculate it herself. “First of November 1861.”
Lorelei shivered, not from the cold, and nodded. Bullseye. “Well, I’m eighteen too. And I was born on the seventh of July. In 2001.”
“Young lady, that’s not amusing,” Colin scolded.
“You’re right about that. Any of you have an idea why the MacDonalds would drug me, kidnap me and send me back in time a hundred and forty years? Because I don’t.” She was verging on hysteria. But at least she wasn’t fainting.
“Are you jesting with us?” Belle asked.
“I promise I’m not. For the last few hours, I thought you might be jesting with me. But you can’t fake an oak that size. This is … well, in my time it’s Canyon Park. It’s right outside Clear Creek. And that Dunnigan’s Mercantile is the same building I work in … and live above. And there’s a painting in my apartment, dated 1889, of Patrick Mulligan and his wife – the same Patrick Mulligan I just … okay, I’m getting woozy again.”
Instantly she felt Jeff steady her and looked into his eyes. He had beautiful eyes, high cheekbones, a square jaw, thick brown hair and lashes any girl would die for. She could guarantee Cindy Crankshaw and her friends would go bonkers over him. Unfortunately for them, he was dead, at least in their time. But she was here with him in … 1879?
Oh, yeah, she was going to rip the MacDonalds new ones. They couldn’t have told her, or the people taking care of her, any of this?!
“We … really should get going,” Colin mumbled. “It’s still another mile home.”
Lorelei nodded. A mile or so past Canyon Park was the Triple-C Ranch. In the years she’d lived in Clear Creek, she’d never seen it. Well, she would now – like no one had seen it in over a century. “Sorry to hold us up. I just needed to check.”
“But … how can this be?” Belle said, her voice strained.
“I suppose we’ll have to ask the MacDonalds that when they return,” Colin replied.
Parthena and Sam didn’t say anything, just stared at Lorelei in confusion. She couldn’t blame them. How would she react if she met someone from the 2150s talking nonsense? She’d probably call 911 and have them locked up in the nearest psych ward. But there was no 911 here. Heck, telephones had just been invented. And psychiatry was still in the Stone Age. She sat and stared at the passing landscape for now, wondering why she was here (or rather, now) and what she was supposed to do about it besides lose her mind.
“Here we are!” Colin announced as they crested a rise.
Jeff leaned toward her, still with his arm around her. “Look, Miss Carson. We’re home.”
She turned in the direction he pointed and felt him pull her to her feet. She stood and leaned against the back of the wagon seat.
“It’s not much,” Colin said. “But we’ve had a grand time building it up over the years.”
She gaped at the sight. They were looking down onto mile after mile of rolling prairie. There was a pair of two-story farmhouses side by side, a large barnyard with a matching large barn to the right of the homes, a small house beyond that and a cabin halfway up another rise. Oaks and a few junipers dotted the open spaces. Smoke rose from the chimneys and from an unseen source beyond the barn. There must be another building back there. “It’s … much,” she whispered, then chuckled.
“Father, I think she’s going to be sick again.”
“No, no, I’m fine. Just a long way from … a long time from home. Whatever.” She sat back down, pulling Jeff with her.
“Quite right. Off we go!”
Jeff righted himself and stared into Lorelei’s eyes. “It’ll be okay.” He swallowed, making his Adam’s apple bob. She’d never noticed such a thing before.
“You sure about that, cowboy?”
“Well … I mean, I can’t guarantee nothing. But … we’ll take care of you, don’t worry about that.”
“Okay.” She was starting to feel numb, like shock was setting in at the enormity of her circumstances. How could this be? Why had they done this to her? Could she ever get back home?
They descended into the ranch, the horses slipping now and then in the snow. She was aware of how Colin spoke to the team, coaxing them down slowly. Jeff alternated between watching his father and her. When they pulled up in front of the smaller two-story house, he breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Father, we need to get her inside. Something’s wrong.”
“Based on what she’s saying, I’d agree,” Belle added.
Colin jumped off the wagon sea
t and came around the side of the buckboard. “Hand her down to me.”
Lorelei wanted to protest, but her mouth wouldn’t work. She let Jeff scoop her into his arms and hand her down to his father, who carried her to the house, up the steps and inside. Warmth surrounded her, making her cold cheeks sting. She started to feel nauseous and wondered if it was a bad thing. But this whole situation was bad. Unbelievable. Either she was completely certifiable or … she was 140 years in the past. Which was the better option?
“Father, who is that?”
Lorelei noticed a staircase next to them as Colin looked around. “Adele, fetch Major over here, would you?”
“Yes, Father.” A brown-haired teenage girl ran down the remaining stairs and out the front door.
“Right then – into the parlor,” Colin said brightly. “Belle will fix you a nice cup of tea and make you something hot to eat.” He laid her on an old couch much like the one she’d seen at the doctor’s house but gave her a look that was anything but jolly. She recognized the panic in his eyes. She had enough of her own to know. She was too exhausted to reassure him – abject fear could do that do a person. Didn’t she learn that in health class?
She decided to not worry about moving for now or talking. For now, she could lie there, stare at the ceiling and try to remember everything she could about 1879. Who was the president – Ulysses S. Grant? No, he was earlier. Was Oregon a state? She was pretty sure it was. The Civil War was over, Reconstruction … probably over too. Edison invented his light bulb around this time, like Bell and the telephone, but neither would’ve reached Clear Creek yet.
She could also hear what was going on around her, like the door opening. “Colin, what is it?” The voice was male and Southern.
“I need you to ride to town and fetch Doc Drake.”
She heard them enter the room. “Who is she?”
“Someone the MacDonalds wanted us to look after. They brought her into our care, then left without much explanation. She’s had a bad shock.”
Lorelei hoped he’d leave the explanation at that.
“I’ll go right away,” the other man said. The door opened and closed again and there was some other commotion as Colin left the room. She heard voices, footfalls, another woman’s voice.
“Lorelei? Can you hear me?”
Her eyes moved in the direction of Jeff’s voice.
“Please stay with us. I don’t know what’s ailing you, but please hang on. The doc’s coming.”
She managed to nod, then tried smiling. Okay, good, she could do both.
“Are you thirsty? I can get you some water.” His voice was soft, gentle, concerned and comforting.
She slowly turned her head in his direction. “Jeff …”
He smiled. “Yes?”
Her eyes met his as her first tear fell. She shivered all over. “Don’t leave me.”
He took her hand and held it between his. “I won’t.”
* * *
“Who is she, Aunt Belle?”
Belle and her niece Honoria watched Jefferson kneel on the floor next to Lorelei and speak to her. The girl was deathly white, as if her life was suddenly slipping away. “We don’t exactly know.” She frowned a moment. “See if the tea is ready. We’ll try that.”
Honoria left the hall and went to the kitchen, her hand to her back. She was growing heavier with child – the baby was due around the first of March, according to Doc Drake.
Belle continued to watch Jefferson speak to her charge softly, the same way he did when handling a skittish filly. Animals loved him, felt comfortable around him, and would do anything for the young man. Her young man. But the way he was looking at Lorelei … well, she’d seen that look before. When she first met Colin in Aunt Irene’s store and again here at the ranch.
She and Aunt Irene had come to the main ranch house for tea. She was new in town, a fact that brought the female population of Clear Creek high enough to start a sewing circle. Colin had a horrible black eye, a cut lip and scraped and bloodied knuckles; she later found out his brothers had purposely beat him black and blue so he’d have an excuse to be in the house and see her. She’d nursed those wounds under Grandma’s careful watch, and thankfully Grandma was a terrible chaperone …
She smiled and closed her eyes. Please don’t let anything happen to this poor child, she prayed. She didn’t know her, and until the ride home hadn’t a clue where she’d come from, only that Dallan and Shona couldn’t take her with them and needed her cared for while they were away.
But was this girl really from the future? How could that happen? How could Dallan and Shona make that happen? Granted, they were known to do some strange things, but they’d helped the townspeople of Clear Creek numerous times since first showing up in town back in ’59. So no one asked too many questions when odd events occurred while they were around, or why the couple never seemed to age.
Honoria waddled back with a tea tray, and Belle led her into the parlor. Honoria set it on a table by the settee and poured a cup. “Can you sit up?” she asked Lorelei. “I have some nice tea made. Do you … take sugar?”
Lorelei stared at her a moment and licked her lips. “I … yes, please.”
Belle sighed in relief. “Jefferson, help her sit up.” It wasn’t proper for him to be so close to her, but he seemed to have a calming effect and Belle wasn’t going take that from her. Not when the poor dear had … well, whatever had happened to her.
The people of Clear Creek didn’t question Bowen Drake’s divine gift of healing. And they didn’t question the MacDonalds about their appearance, despite twenty years having passed since she first met them. But there was something about this situation that was stranger than usual, even stranger than the MacDonalds’ usual. Maybe, in light of this girl’s statements about being from the future … maybe they should ask more questions. Either Lorelei had gone far around the bend, or – unlikely as it seemed – she was telling the truth.
But for now, Belle took a deep breath, pulled up a chair, and proceed to take care of Lorelei until the doctor arrived.
Chapter Nine
“Physically, she’s fine. But she’s frightened to death.”
Jefferson listened from the hall as Doc Drake spoke to his parents in the kitchen. He glanced toward the parlor, where Honoria was sitting and talking with Lorelei. It seemed to help to take the poor girl’s mind off whatever was giving her such a tortured look. He hated that look. He’d seen it before on horses and other animals that had suffered abuse or been lost. She reminded him of a lost kitten he’d once seen hiding under the mercantile steps. The poor thing was so scared it was frozen with fright.
But what was Lorelei afraid of? What she’d said about being born in 2001 couldn’t possibly be true … could it? Where did she really come from?
Jefferson returned to the parlor and watched Honoria’s continued attempts at giving Lorelei some comfort. “Major and I got into a horse race and I lost. Really lost – my seat, that is. I fell off my horse and that ended the race. When he says I lost the race, he’s just being kind.” Honoria laughed.
Lorelei didn’t laugh, just shivered.
Jefferson came closer. “Does she need another blanket?”
Honoria turned to look at him. “It wouldn’t hurt.”
He left the parlor, ran upstairs to his room and pulled the quilt off his bed. By the time he returned, Doc Drake was seated in a chair next to his patient and was taking her pulse. He let go of her wrist, put his pocket watch away, then took her hand and smiled at her. “Your heart is racing, my dear.”
She looked at the doctor, her jaw trembling. “I think I’ve got a good excuse.”
Doc Drake glanced at Jefferson’s parents and nodded slowly. “Did you bump your head? That would explain the nausea and the …”
“I told you. I was at a party the MacDonalds were throwing and I felt ill – I still think there was something in the cheese – and when I woke up, I was here. In the past. My past, your present … gah,
I know it’s hard to believe, but there’s no other explanation …”
“Shhh, it’s all right,” Doc Drake soothed. “But you might have sustained an injury beforehand. Do you remember anything like that?”
She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “I told you no.”
Jefferson bit his lower lip and clutched the quilt to his chest. Maybe she’d lost her memory or gotten it scrambled. If so, how long before she got it back? She’d started talking that nonsense on the way home – a bump to the head would explain it.
“Jefferson, spread that over her,” Doc Drake instructed.
He moved to comply and lay the quilt over Lorelei. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, his heart racing. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. Where were her parents? Why hadn’t anyone asked yet? He cleared his throat. “Do … your folks live in these parts?”
She stared at him. “I’m on my own.”
His mother and cousin gasped. “No family?” Honoria said.
“None?” Doc Drake asked to confirm.
Lorelei shook her head. “No. My parents died in a fire when I was six.”
“I see.” The doctor motioned to Jefferson. “Why don’t you keep Lorelei company while I speak with the others?”
“Sure, Doc.” He took the chair Doc Drake had vacated and watched everyone leave the room.
“They think I’m crazy, don’t they?”
“Um …” He couldn’t bring himself to lie to those beautiful eyes. “Well, it does sound pretty loco. I mean, I don’t know how it could be …”
“Yeah, I get that,” she whispered. “I don’t mean to be such a bother.”
He leaned toward her. It was improper, wrong, but he couldn’t help himself. “You’re not. Around here if a person needs help, we help. No matter what they need.”
Her eyes misted with tears. “I’m afraid you and your family aren’t going to be able to help me. The only people who can are the ones that left me here.”