One-Click Buy: March 2009 Harlequin Blaze

by Alison Kent

  Sam swallowed hard. For the first time in his sorry life, he didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to leave Reese behind. He wanted to wake up each day with her beside him. He wanted her to fall asleep in his arms each night.

  He gulped in the cool spring air. Hell, he was as crazy as she was. Reese would never stay. She was a lady, used to fine things. More than anything, she wanted to go home. And fool that he was, he’d promised to help her find the way.

  “HAVE YOU READ ALL of those books under the bed?” Reese asked, as she reached for the pot. She was getting used to Sam’s coffee—he didn’t make it quite as strong as he had in the beginning. Even if he had, though, she’d have to force down the brew so that she could keep awake. They’d gotten so little sleep in the past three nights. Not that she was complaining. She yawned and smiled.

  “Yep. Some of them five times.”

  “You definitely need some new ones.” She poured herself a cup and set the kettle back on the fire.

  “Reckon I’ve been too busy to read.” He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest.

  Coffee sloshed over the rim of her cup. “Hey.” Laughing, she wiggled free. “Three days ago you were yelling at me to stay out of sight. Now you’re practically attacking me in public.”

  His smile faded, and he turned away and pulled on his gloves.

  Her own happiness deflated. Other than Ellie, she couldn’t think of another person who had the ability to affect her mood as Sam did. In a small way, she resented the power that gave him. Not that she could change a darn thing. She’d fallen for him. As irresponsible and impossible as the situation was, she’d done the unthinkable. “What’s the matter, Sam?”

  “The sheriff hasn’t stopped looking for you. Yesterday while you were at Doc’s he came by again. I don’t know how much longer we can put him off.”

  “I thought you told his deputy I was a friend of Doc’s.”

  “I did.” He shrugged. “I reckon the only reason he hasn’t poked around more is on account of the trouble they’ve been having at the saloon.”

  She wasn’t quite sure what Sam was trying to say. She took a cautious sip of her coffee, her mind grasping. And then the truth dawned on her. With Sam’s past, he couldn’t afford to have attention called to himself. God, she didn’t want to consider how much trouble she could bring down on him and Doc.

  How selfish she’d been these past three days, seeking the warmth and comfort she’d found in Sam’s arms each night and not giving a thought as to how her presence might threaten him. Even Doc was at risk. She’d spent a good part of her days with him, helping with patients, answering his questions and describing the advances of modern medicine.

  Since she’d been too thickheaded to get it, Sam was delicately reminding her that she needed to move on. Something else occurred to her. She shook her head in disbelief. She’d done nothing more to figure out how to get home. Her thoughts had run in the direction of improving how Doc sterilized his instruments, to convincing him that bloodletting and purging were not only ineffective but dangerous.

  Was she suffering from Stockholm syndrome? Although she wasn’t a hostage and in no way Sam’s captive, she had depended on him for everything from the food she ate to the roof over her head. He’d hidden her and kept her safe, and it was entirely possible that she had mentally attached to him and disconnected from her real life. It was a textbook case, really.

  “Reese?” He took her cold hand, his brown eyes warm with concern. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  “I know I—” She swallowed, fighting the urge to bawl her eyes out. “Just hold me, Sam.” She melted against him, comforted by his strong arms tightening around her. No, she wasn’t out of touch with reality. She understood that she had to leave, but she also knew that this thing she felt for him wasn’t some psychobabble nonsense. Screw the textbooks. What she felt had everything to do with him being the kindest, most decent, honorable man she’d ever met, could ever hope to meet.

  And soon she’d never see him again.

  Sick panic tied her insides into a knot. If protecting him meant she had to go, then she wouldn’t hesitate, even if she had to get on a stagecoach, penniless, and ride as far away from Deadwood as possible. And away from the Golden Slipper and any clue that might lead her back to the twenty-first century. But she knew also, with absolute clarity, that no matter what, she couldn’t leave until Hastings Barnett was gone from Deadwood, and Sam was safe. A fairy with a magic wand could suddenly appear and show her the way home and she wouldn’t budge. Not if she thought for one second that it meant Sam could hang.

  SHE WAS SITTING BY the fire rereading Moby Dick when Sam returned from Arnold’s General Store. Reese glanced up and smiled, and his heart swelled like it was fixin’ to burst out of his chest, the same as it always did when she looked at him that way. The woman had been here only a little more than a week and his whole life had been turned inside out. She even had him buying her unmentionables for her.

  “I could’ve been the sheriff,” he said, frowning, not that it would do any good. He’d warned her a dozen times not to sit out in the open when he wasn’t around.

  Still smiling, she shook her head. “I recognize your footsteps.” Then she lifted her face for his kiss.

  He obliged her, his blood heating even though he knew she wasn’t offering to go to the back room and lie with him. She touched him often, and stopped to kiss him at the damnedest times. For no reason at all. At first he hadn’t known what to think. Now he liked it. Made him wonder if that was something married folks did.

  “I hope this is right,” he said gruffly, straightening and handing her the wrapped bundle.

  “Thank you.” She eagerly pulled the string loose and stared at the brown kid leather gloves that lay on top. “What’s this?”

  “Gloves.”

  She laughed. “I know that. But it wasn’t on my list.”

  “So your hands won’t get rough and callused.”

  Her lips parted, but no words came out, and the sadness that entered her eyes tore a hole in his gut. They both knew she wouldn’t stay. No need saying it out loud.

  He shrugged. “You can take the gloves with you when you leave. You’ll need them.”

  She pressed her lips together and bowed her head. She stared at the stockings and undergarments that he’d bought for her, and then abruptly looked up with a smile tugging at her mouth. “You’re going to be the talk of the town, buying things like these at the general store.”

  Heat climbed up his neck and into his face. He decided not to tell her that he’d paid one of the girls from the saloon to make the purchase. But he was saved from having to reveal his secret when Doc hurried into the livery. Except he didn’t like the grim look on his friend’s face.

  “Got something for you to see, Sam.” Doc came close enough that Sam smelled the whiskey on his breath. He thrust out a newspaper. “It’s bad.”

  Sam scanned the headlines. He didn’t see anything at first, and then his gaze went to the article halfway down the page. “Son of a bitch.”

  Reese rose to her feet. “What’s wrong?”

  Sam studied Doc’s bloodshot eyes. A bottle of whiskey sounded mighty good about now. His gaze went back to the article. Lamar Watkins was running for territorial governor. The last time Sam had seen the low-down skunk, he’d just shot an unarmed man in the back. And that wasn’t the worst of his sins.

  “Sam? Doc? What the heck is going on?”

  Sam looked up and locked gazes with Doc. “I told her,” Sam said quietly.

  Doc briefly closed his eyes, but not before Sam saw the flash of pain he understood too well. “All of it?”

  “Enough.”

  Doc stared at the ground before turning to face Reese.

  Her lips lifted in a sad smile and she slid an arm around the doctor. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It was wartime. You were a kid.”

  He shook his head. “Sam and Jake, they were kids. I was nineteen.”


  Reese sighed. “That’s not very old. In my time, boys are still in school at nineteen.”

  Sam and Doc exchanged glances. That was hard to believe.

  “It’s true,” she said. “People go to school until they’re in their twenties. I’m twenty-nine and I just finished medical school a year ago. But the point is, you were a soldier following orders. When you saw that your leader was evil, you left. You did exactly what you were supposed to do.”

  “We should’ve stopped him,” Sam insisted.

  “The three of you? No one would blame you for running as fast as you could.”

  “We didn’t run,” Doc commented, his shoulders straightening. “Not right away.”

  “Doc saved that young boy,” Sam said. “And his ma. The pa was dead and their house had burned down. We took them with us. The James boys had gone crazy and we didn’t trust they wouldn’t hurt ’em.”

  Reese glared at Sam. “You didn’t mention that the other night.”

  Sam didn’t know what had gotten her so riled. He’d confessed all his ill deeds.

  “You did a great thing. That was very heroic.” She shot Doc an accusing look. “Both of you are so willing to dwell on the bad and not the good. Don’t do it. It’ll eat you alive.”

  His fist tightening around the newspaper, Sam met Doc’s eyes. This thing with Lamar Watkins was what would do them in. How could they keep their mouths shut about the greedy, murderous bastard? He was pure evil. He didn’t deserve the people’s trust or the power of political office.

  Sam cleared his throat. “We have to stop Watkins, Doc.”

  “I know.”

  Reese took the paper from his hands. She quickly found and read the article, and then looked up with a question in her eyes.

  “He was one of Captain Quantrill’s lieutenants,” Sam explained. “Not officially, so the army doesn’t know his name, but he did plenty of Quantrill’s dirty work. He was there in Lawrence, Kansas. Gave the order to shoot whether a man was armed or not.”

  “Most soldiers killed because they had to, but Watkins liked it. He was one brutal son of a bitch,” Doc added, and glanced at Reese. “Pardon my language.”

  She frowned at the newspaper. “How could he get this far without anyone knowing who he is?”

  “He was one sneaky devil. Smart, too.” Doc snorted. “Showed up only when it was time for the robbing and killing. He didn’t leave no witnesses behind. Reckon the only men who’d know him are the ones who rode with Quantrill.”

  Sam studied Reese’s face, preparing himself for the moment she understood what Doc was saying. Soon enough her green eyes widened and her face paled. “You’re considered outlaws. You can’t say anything about being part of that gang. You can’t.”

  Sam looked at Doc, who scrubbed at his worn face. They both knew they’d hang for sure. But could they add cowardly silence to their many sins? There was no choice.

  “Sam.” Reese clutched his arm. The fear in her eyes tore at him. “Please don’t be foolish. There has to be a way to expose this man without you and Doc putting yourselves in danger.” She waved the paper at him. “Write an anonymous letter to the editor. Let a reporter dig around.” She looked again at the newspaper. “This man who wrote the article—” She gasped and stared at something on the page, her face turning deathly white. Her fingernails dug deep into his arm.

  “Reese?” He touched her cheek.

  She wouldn’t take her gaze from the paper. Her lower lip quivered. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She seemed to be having trouble breathing.

  A cold wave of fear trickled down Sam’s neck. “Doc.”

  Reese waved a hand. “It’s the date,” she told them raggedly, holding up the newspaper. “Look at the date.”

  Sam had trouble taking his eyes off her, but he forced himself to look where she pointed. It was the 23rd of April.

  “The picture I told you about—this is the date you’re supposed to steal Hastings Barnett’s horse.”

  “Maybe you’d better lie down,” Doc said, frowning at her.

  “Sam, you have to promise me you won’t leave the stables for the rest of the day.” Reese dug her nails in deeper. “That you’ll stay away from Goliath.”

  “You have to calm down,” Doc told her, his confused gaze going to Sam. “How about we get you a sip of whiskey?”

  Sam hadn’t said anything to Doc about what she had told him. He gave his friend a slight shake of his head, and then slid his arms around Reese. “I’ll stay right here.”

  “Promise me.”

  “I swear on my life.”

  A pitiful sob slipped from her lips. Her eyes were dark, darker than he’d ever seen them. “Swear on my life, Sam,” she whispered.

  His gut clenched, and he swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. “I swear.”

  She sniffed, and slowly nodded. “We’ll get through this day. We will.”

  Doc sighed heavily. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “Reckon I’ll go visit the Silver Nugget. The drunks over there make a lot more sense than you folks.”

  Sam watched his friend amble out to the street in search of his whiskey. He had a good mind to follow him.

  REESE PUT AWAYMoby Dick. She’d tried to pick up where she’d left off, but kept reading the same paragraph over and over again. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t let Sam out of her sight, or that he’d kept his word and stayed close. She still worried. Was it possible to change history? Did she have that power? Would keeping him in the stables be enough?

  Her mind raced and her jittery insides were driving her nuts. She couldn’t seem to stop the tremor in her hands or slow down her pulse no matter how many deep breaths she took or what soothing lie she told herself. Because what if this date meant something to her, as well? Was today the day she could go back to her own time?

  The wedding dress, Grandma Lily’s house, the picture of Sam, they’d all played a part that fateful day in the attic. Was today the day all the pieces of the puzzle would come together again? None of it made sense, really, but neither did being hurled through time.

  Oddly, the thought of going back didn’t excite her as it should. Of course she wanted to see Ellie again, and her parents. Plus she was scheduled to be on another health news panel next week. She frowned. Was it next week? Or next month? She didn’t care, she admitted. In fact, the idea didn’t appeal at all.

  Would anything else in her career ever compare to the work she’d done here with Doc? The sudden thought startled her. It was silly. Modern research and technology offered limitless possibilities to tackle age-old ailments. She could do so much good in the next thirty or forty years. Here resources were limited. She’d taught Doc everything she could. The patching and mending she’d done barely qualified as practicing medicine.

  All this crazy meandering. Proof of her tattered nerves. She gave herself a mental shake as she watched Sam carry water to the stalls. A minute later, a young blond boy came running into the livery before she could hide.

  Fortunately, he didn’t see her sitting by the stove. He stopped in front of Sam and bent over, planting his hands on his bony knees as he tried to catch his breath.

  Sam gave her a warning look and moved between her and the child. “What can I do you for, Tommy?”

  Still breathing hard, after a false start he said, “Mr. Barnett over at the hotel—” Tommy stopped to catch his breath again. “He gave me two bits to tell you to get his horse ready. Says he’s leaving town in twenty minutes.”

  Reese cupped a silencing hand over her mouth. Barnett was leaving town. Sam would be safe.

  So why couldn’t she shake the awful feeling of dread?

  17

  AS SOON AS TOMMY LEFT, Reese flew at Sam. He caught her and swung her around in the air. She laughed, verging on hysteria. She kissed his cheek, his nose, his forehead. He slowly lowered her and captured her mouth with his. After a few moments, she was the one who broke the kiss. She hadn’t noticed she’d been
crying until he wiped a tear with the pad of his thumb.

  “He’s leaving,” he said quietly. “Don’t fret anymore.”

  She sent up a silent prayer of thanks and swiped at her other moist cheek. “Maybe my being here changed everything. Put some kind of kink in history.”

  He smiled. “I’m gonna go make sure Goliath is watered and fed before I saddle him.”

  She nodded, not as relieved as she should be. Her own words hadn’t done much to convince her that history had indeed changed. There was no reason for her doubt, unless she believed in premonitions, which admittedly, best described the dark cloud of doom that seemed to hang over them.

  She pushed back her cuff and checked her watch. Ten more minutes and Hastings Barnett would pick up his horse and leave Deadwood. In ten hours the hand would strike midnight and the day would be gone forever.

  So might her opportunity to return home.

  Reese’s chest tightened. Maybe that was the reason for the dread. How could she leave Sam? She’d never find a man like him again. Not in her world. She knew she shouldn’t have made love with him, she thought, as she watched him work, her heart squeezing at the familiarity of his every move. God, had she been foolish enough to fall in love with him? How could she possibly feel this way about him after only one week?

  Wrapping her arms around her waist, she watched him lead Goliath out of his stall and tether him to a post. Speaking in a low, soothing tone to the horse, he strapped on the saddle. Reese tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. A wave of nausea swept her. Her vision blurred and she blinked to clear it. She leaned against a pole, feeling a bit light-headed, feeling a little like…

  Reese straightened, fear slicing through her like a dull knife, her heart hammering her breastbone. She couldn’t be going back. Not now.

  No. No. Her mouth couldn’t seem to work, so she reached out to him.