“So what are you going to do?”
Wes hesitated. The last thing he wanted was for Anna to decide she could help him search out the gang. He still wasn’t completely sure where this woman came from, and why she was so determined to do a man’s job. Wherever her life was, someone hadn’t done his duty of reining her in, and letting her know that women didn’t go around chasing outlaws and fighting their own battles with good-for-nothing cowboys. He scowled. It sure as heck wasn’t his task.
“I’m going to ride out to where the hold-up took place, and take a look around.” He raised his eyebrows. “And don’t ask, because you can’t go with me.”
“You can deputize me, and I can help.” She raised her chin when he chuckled.
“The town would never survive a female deputy.” Wes shoved his chair back and stood. “No. And I’ll need someone to watch the jail while I’m gone. A man.”
Anna glared at him. “That is such a sexist statement.”
Wes glanced up at her, his eyes wide. Who’d said anything about sex? But now that she’d brought it up, his body decided he might want to hang around and continue the conversation. This puzzling woman said the strangest things.
She sighed. “Never mind. I guess like a good little woman, I’ll just let the big, strong man take care of the problems, and I’ll saunter on back to my hotel room and work on my embroidery.”
Wes reached for his hat lying next to the scribbled notes from the interview with the passengers. “Now you’ve got it.” Without a backward glance, he left the room, slamming the door behind him.
“I was being sarcastic, you know!” Her voice reached his ears through the door, and he chuckled.
Wes strode into the mercantile, nodding briefly at the women with their shopping bags slung over their arms.
“Morning, marshal.” Liz Bennett flashed him a bright coquettish smile, one of many she’d cast his way since his arrival in Denton.
He tipped his hat and continued to the counter where shop owner, Arnold Prentiss, finished tying the string around a brown paper package.
“Thank you, Mrs. Brown, and have a pleasant day.” Arnold handed the parcel to a stout middle-aged woman, who nodded her thanks, then left the store.
Arnold rested his elbows on the counter. “What can I do for you, marshal?”
“I’m needing to deputize you, so you can handle any problems while I’m gone.” When Arnold raised his eyebrows, Wes continued, “The stagecoach’s been robbed, and Slug’s been shot.”
“Robbed!” Beverly Haskell hurried to the counter, her hand pressed against her thin chest, her eyes ablaze with curiosity. “Oh my. And poor Mr. Slug.”
Wes inwardly groaned. Mrs. Haskell was the nosiest busybody in Denton, and a well- known gossip. Any chance of keeping this quiet so as not to alarm the townsfolk had just disappeared.
“I’ll be glad to help.” Arnold untied his apron and cast it over the counter. “Just let me get my wife to come down and take care of the store.” He gestured with his thumb toward the ceiling. “She’s up there feeding the baby.”
“Thanks. Meet me at the jailhouse.” Wes left, scooting around the gaggle of women all waving their arms and talking frantically. The robbery would spread like wildfire.
Wes sighed when he returned to his office to find Anna gone. The woman would give him a heart attack sometime soon with her reckless behavior.
After packing his saddlebags with supplies, Wes swore Arnold in, his makeshift deputy grinning as he rubbed the badge on his chest.
“I may be gone a day or two. If I find tracks, I’ll be following them.”
“No problem, marshal. I can handle anything that comes up.”
Wes nodded and headed out. Although the passengers he talked to had disagreed on most things amongst themselves, they were united in the fact that it all happened about ten miles east of town, on the north to south stagecoach road. He headed in that direction.
Within minutes after leaving the town proper, the hair on the back of his neck warned him he was being followed. It wasn’t all that unusual, since this area was well traveled, not like the stagecoach road he’d hit in a few miles. He slowed his horse, Nektosha, and the horse behind him slowed. Keeping the same pace, he eased his fingers into his holster, and fisted the gun grip.
Suddenly, he reined his horse, quickly pulled the gun from the holster, and spun around. “Hands up.”
Anna yanked on the brown mare’s reins, her eyes wide. Startled, the horse bucked, and Anna tumbled to the ground.
“Goddammit!” Wes re-holstered the gun, jumped from Nektosha, then raced to Anna’s crumpled form on the ground, squatting alongside her. “What the hell are you doing, woman?”
She sat up and rubbed her right arm. “Following you.”
Wes thumbed back the brim of his hat. “Didn’t I tell you I don’t want your help?”
Anna groaned as she stood and dusted off her bottom. “Yes. But I’ve never been good at taking orders.”
His groin tightened when he realized she was again dressed in her men’s trousers. Except no man ever looked like that. The snug outline of her rear as she swept her hand over it had his stomach clenching and his heart pounding. She wore his shirt that she hadn’t returned, but had tied the two bottom halves of it together right under her breasts, exposing the tawny skin of her stomach. If he didn’t get rid of her, he might act the fool, grab her, and devour that pouting mouth. “Get right back on that horse and return to town.”
“No. I can help you.” She waved her arms around. “You need a back-up. Why would you go after a gang by yourself? It’s not correct police procedure.” Anna winced as she rotated her shoulder, her soft breasts swaying under the shirt.
Wes tightened his jaw. “Are you hurt?”
“Not really. Just banged up a bit.” She squinted as she looked up at him. “How far from here was the hold up?”
“Don’t change the subject. I want you to go back to town.”
“Look, I no longer have a job, so while I’m looking for another one, maybe my training can help you find these outlaws.”
He snorted. “Training from the academy for young ladies where you learned to shoot and wrestle men, or from the Indians where you claim you lived?”
“Let’s just say I know a little bit about crime scenes.”
Wes pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “I suppose you’ll continue to follow me no matter what I say?”
“Pretty much.”
“I don’t have time to drag you back to the jailhouse and lock you up, but I’m warning you, stay out of my way.”
“Yes, sir.” She grinned and gave him a two-fingered salute.
They both mounted and continued on, side by side. Wes tried very hard to ignore what her body was doing to him.
Anna studied Wes as they rode. He certainly looked like one of the heroes in the romance novels that she loved to read so much. But this was a flesh and blood man, who caused a reaction in her she didn’t want or need. Barely over Robbie and his deception, the last thing she needed was another man to inflict damage in her life.
Which brought her back to the biggest problem she faced. How the heck had she landed in the past, and how was she going to get back in time for her hearing? Before Slug had picked her up, sweating, frustrated, and wandering in the prairie, she’d spent a good two hours trying to find the Indian store. She’d tamped down the panic that rose every once in a while since that fateful day.
Was this the ‘peace’ the Indian woman alluded to when she sent her to the chair? To a town existing over a hundred years before she was even born? She snorted. A ton of feelings had bombarded her over the past few days, but peace had certainly not been one of them.
They headed north on another road that took them over the prairie on a path not well used. “Is this the road the stage coach normally takes?”
“Yep. They come down from Marysville, the last stop before Denton. Where did Slug pick you up?”
“And you have no idea how you got there?”
“I do. But you’re not ready to hear it.”
Wes’s head snapped around. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing, marshal. You have your secrets, and I have mine.”
She could just imagine his reaction if she blurted out that she was from the year two thousand thirteen. He would probably escort her to this century’s idea of a mental facility. Just the thought caused her to shudder.
Wes slowed and she followed. From atop his horse he began searching the area, leaning over, examining the bushes and dirt, going even slower. She watched him as his features tightened in concentration.
“Here.” Although he said the word softly, the quiet of the prairie made it sound as though he shouted. Wes slid from his horse and knelt, studying the ground. Anna joined him, careful not to step too close to the cluster of indentations in the dirt made from horse’s hooves.
She shaded her eyes from the sun and looked around. If the outlaws had ridden north, which was how it appeared from the tracks, they wouldn’t have had to go very far to reach cover. Off in the distance the area was greener, and the large wooded tract would have provided a good place for them to disappear after the robbery.
“There were four of them.” Wes stood, placing his hands on his hips and gazing in the direction she studied.
“How can you tell that? There’s so many hoof marks.”
He turned to her, his eyes guarded. “I’m half Potawatomi.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. I spent most summers with my mother’s people, who taught me many things, among them how to read tracks.”
Anna pointed to the ground. “So you can tell from that mess that there were four bandits?”
He nodded. “You’re not the only one who’s had training, as you put it.”
“Now what do we do?”
“We do nothing. I’m going to ride further up and see if I can track down their hideout. You, on the other hand, are going back to town, and letting Arnold know I’ll be gone for a couple of days.”
“By yourself?”
“That’s right.”
“No, I don’t think so. I’ve come this far, and I don’t intend to turn tail and run.” She returned to her horse and pulled herself up onto the saddle. “Let’s go, marshal, time’s a-wasting.”
Wes gritted his teeth. “You can’t go with me. I may have to stay overnight, camped out. Not a fit place for a lady.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not a lady, isn’t it?” She raised her eyebrows at his scowl. “Where I come from men and women work side by side, and even sometimes have to spend the night together. It’s no big deal.”
Obviously convinced he would not have his way, Wes mounted his horse, grumbling about cantankerous women and strange academies that no young lady should ever attend.
Wes continued to follow the tracks, which led them to the wooded area that veered off from the stagecoach road. The thickness of the trees soon surrounded them, turning the sunny day dim. The odor of dampness mingled with the fragrance of the forest. Although a narrow path guided them, it had not been used very often. They rode for several miles, passing a couple of abandoned cabins that a careful search turned up nothing. The cloudy day, combined with the canopy of the trees in the thickened woods, blocked out their light entirely right before sunset.
“I think we need to stop for the night.” Wes pulled up on his horse’s reins and turned to face her. They’d ridden the last few miles in single file. If the outlaws had come this way, which Wes assured her they had, it had to be slow going for them.
“Will we camp here?”
“No. Let’s go back to that last cabin we passed. I have no idea how close these fellows are, and I don’t like the idea of making us an easy target.”
Nestled in a thicket of trees, the cabin was cold despite it being summer. Moisture had crept into the place through cracked walls, chilling Anna to the bone. “Can we make a fire?”
“I don’t think it would be a problem. Travelers stay in these places all the time.” He turned his piercing gaze on her. “And, no one would ever expect to run across a woman searching for outlaws.”
She smirked. “So, I’m a good cover.”
Wes grunted. “Do you have a gun with you?”
“Of course.”
“Of course,” he sighed. “Keep it handy.”
Anna dragged in their saddlebags, and placed the food both she and Wes had brought with them on a wobbly table near the fireplace, while he started a fire with a flint and some kindling. Within minutes, he had a good-sized fire going, turning the cabin into a warm, snug cocoon.
“Well, it appears we have a feast.” Anna smiled as she surveyed the table laden with beef jerky, bread, apples and a block of cheese. “Where can we get some water? I even brought coffee, and there’s a pan on the shelf in the kitchen area we can use.”
“There’s a lot of small creeks running through this area, I’ll fetch water for us.” Wes snagged the pan she’d indicated, then left the cabin.
Whoever had abandoned the cabin had left a couple pieces of broken down furniture behind. Besides the table and three chairs, there was a rickety bed shoved into one corner, but Anna didn’t think she’d care to sleep there. God only knew what critters had made their home in the mattress. While she waited for Wes, she returned once more to the horses and unloaded Wes’s bedroll, and the one she’d borrowed from the hotel.
She rested them next to the fireplace and surveyed the area. Well, this certainly is cozy. Then brought herself up short. What am I thinking?
The last thing she wanted to do was get cozy with the marshal. She had a life more than a hundred years from now, and needed to figure out how to get back to it. No matter how many times she ran the episode through her mind, no answer ever appeared. She’d been inexplicitly attracted to the Native American store, and stopped there even though she was in a hurry to get back to Tulsa.
The strange old woman knew her name, and seemed to know all about her. As scary as that should have been, instead Anna had sensed an overpowering feeling of belonging that she hadn’t felt since her mother died. Then the most alarming part of the experience, when she’d fallen asleep in the ‘peace chair’ and had awakened to find herself one hundred and forty-three years in the past.
What did it all mean, and how was she going to get back? Was there something about this time and place that was supposed to be important to her? The Indian woman seemed to think sitting in the ‘peace chair’ would give her answers. Instead, it had only presented hundreds of questions.
The door to the cabin opened and Wes entered, carrying a pan of water. “Why don’t you get the coffee started and I’ll tend to the horses?”
Anna pushed her disturbing thoughts to the back of her mind, and took the pan from him. The jolt she’d felt once before from touching him made her jump when their fingers met. Wes must’ve felt it as well, because he pulled his hand back, causing water to slosh over the edge and splash onto the floor.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“No problem. I’ll clean it up.” Anna carefully balanced the pan of water on the fire and wiped the few drops from the floor. When she turned, Wes had disappeared again.
She sat back on her heels and studied the door. Instead of dwelling on why she’d been thrust into the past, the puzzle of Wes and the feelings he brought out in her arose to the forefront with remarkable clarity. The idea that he could be the reason she found herself where she did was not something she wanted to consider. She’d sworn off men, and had no intention of letting a well-built, handsome lawman change her mind.
After about fifteen minutes of Anna tying herself in knots trying to answer questions to which there seemed to be no solution, Wes returned and settled at the table. Anna poured the coffee into two cracked cups she’d found, and joined him. He bowed his head, obviously
saying a prayer, which caught her off guard. She’d forgotten how common mealtime prayer was in this time period. Avoiding each other’s eyes, they ate, silence coupled with awareness filling the small space.
When they’d both had their fill, Wes pushed back from the table and crossed his arms over his chest. She glanced up at him, flinching at his light brown eyes boring into hers.
“All right, Miss Devlin, let’s have it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Where are you from, and why do I think your answer will be something unbelievable?”
Chapter Seven
Wes studied the various emotions flitting across Anna’s beautiful face, beginning with surprise and ending with her raised stubborn chin. This woman had him tied in knots most of the time, and he needed some answers. Unlike any woman he’d ever met, there was also something about her that called to a very deep part of him. Oh, he wanted her in his bed; who wouldn’t with that body he’d seen enough in those trousers to keep him in a semi-hard state? But she was also smart, brave, funny, and somewhat vulnerable in her insistence that she could take care of herself. It still didn’t explain the unusual pull he felt toward her.
But where did she come from?
He raised one eyebrow. “Well?”
Anna took a deep breath, stood, then began to pace. “I can’t tell you.”
“Why not? Are you wanted by the law?”
“Geez, marshal, how many times do I have to tell you I am the law?”
Wes waved his hand in dismissal. “I don’t want to talk about that right now. If you think you’re a bounty hunter, then fine. What I want to know is where you come from, and don’t tell me ‘Tulsa’ again. I checked all the federal records, and there is no such place.”
She stopped and rested her hands on her hips. “If I tell you what I suspect, you’ll haul me off to the nearest funny farm.”
A Tumble Through Time Page 7