My Heart Will Find Yours

by Linda LaRoque

Jason, brow puckered, looked hard at Royce as if begging him to say no.

  “Call me Royce, Sally. Yes, I do think at some point a woman should learn the use of firearms.”

  Garrett piped up. “Pa lets me shoot sometimes. When I get a little older he’s going to buy me a rifle of my own.” Royce winked at his son and was rewarded with a snaggle-toothed grin.

  Sally pressed the issue. “See there, Jason. I told you so. Molly can use a gun, and I bet Texanna can too.”

  “Sally, you’re just eighteen-years-old. You need to be more mature to handle a gun.”

  Sally’s face turned beet red. “I’ll have you know—”

  Texanna coughed to hide her chuckle. “I think what Jason means, Sally, is using a gun requires a certain amount of strength. Strength you might not have yet.”

  Jason nodded. “Yes, that’s it exactly. Guns are heavy.” He pulled at his shirt collar as if it’d suddenly grown too tight.

  “I’ll tell you what. Come out to the house some morning, and we’ll see if you’re strong enough. I’ll let you fire a couple of rounds so you’ll have an idea of what’s involved.”

  Texanna turned to Royce. “If it’s all right with Royce.”

  “Really?” Sally reached across Jason and grabbed Texanna’s hand. “Thank you.”

  Nodding at Sally, she added. “Maybe Sally can teach me to make biscuits.”

  Royce considered for a minute. “You can teach her how to load and hold the Winchester, but no firing.”

  Texanna started to argue but didn’t. She turned to Molly. “When’s your baby due?”

  The petite woman moaned and touched her belly. “In about ten minutes.”

  Matthew kissed her cheek. “Don’t tease us, little mother.” He smiled at Texanna. “He’s due in four weeks, sometime in early August.”

  Texanna couldn’t resist asking. “He? You know it’s a he?”

  The big man shrugged and grinned sheepishly. “Doesn’t matter, boy, girl, we’ll be happy with either.”

  What would they think if they knew about ultrasound and discovering a baby’s sex before birth?

  “Is there a hospital in town where you’ll have the baby?”

  No one spoke. They looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.

  Royce took her hand. “We have a hospital, but most babies are born at home. Doc comes to the house and delivers them.”

  She searched Molly’s face, looking for fear or worry, but she didn’t appear to be afraid.

  Molly’s smile was sympathetic. “Don’t look so concerned. All the women at the farm have had babies and could probably deliver this one themselves.”

  All she could do was nod. Texanna knew that’s how it was done in the old days. But she’d never been living it before. She feared for Molly and the baby. But Pearl had managed with Garrett.

  “Pa, I’m hungry. When are we gonna eat?” Garrett’s question broke the tension.

  “Right now, young man.” A large, gray-haired lady stood beside the table and nodded. “Howdy, Marshal, folks. What can I get ya?”

  The meal was hardy, good, and full of cholesterol. Hungry as she was, Texanna’s middle was so pinched she couldn’t eat more than a few bites. She’d better start running again next week. As she picked at her food, she scanned the room. No one stared at Royce with animosity. She hadn’t seen anyone at church who came across as a threat either.

  Texanna peered around Jason to study Sally’s waistline. Sally’s blue check dress fit her nicely, but she appeared comfortable.

  As they left the restaurant, Molly pulled her aside. “Get rid of the corset.”

  She giggled and whispered. “Is my misery that obvious?” They walked in front of the men, and Texanna glanced back to make sure they weren’t heard. “Royce wanted me to wear this dress and it’s a little too snug without it.”

  Molly winked. “Bring it out to the farm, and we’ll let the seams out.”

  “Oh, I think I love you.”

  Molly put her arm around Texanna’s waist. “Matthew will be out next week to help you make jelly. You have those apricots picked and ready, and your day will go faster.”

  Texanna threw her arm across the petite woman’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Molly leaned in close and whispered. “Now, are you going to tell me who you whipped at church?”

  She made sure the men weren’t paying them any mind, and then regaled Molly with the judge’s daughter’s accusations.

  “And you ripped her dress?”

  “I didn’t mean to, but she called me a whore.”

  Molly nodded her understanding. “The poor woman’s been after Royce since way before you came on the scene. She about died when Royce returned from San Antonio and announced his plans to marry you.” She shook her head. “Judge Stokes has spoiled her something awful.”

  They stopped at the buggies, and Molly turned to the men. “Royce, why don’t you let Garrett come out and stay until Matthew rides over on Wednesday to make jelly?”

  Garrett looked at Royce with hope written all over his face. “Yeah, Pa. Can I? I’ll help Aunt Molly with her chores.”

  “Who’s going to do your chores?”

  Garrett’s face fell.

  Texanna spoke up. “I guess I could learn how to do them, do you think?”

  Royce was quiet for a minute. “Okay, but we need to stop and get extra clothes.”

  “Oh, thank you, Pa.” Garrett ran to Texanna and hugged her tightly. “Thank you, Texanna. I’ll show you what to do this afternoon.”

  Giving the boy a hug and ruffling his hair, she said, “No problem, sport.”

  Neither Matthew nor Molly mentioned Garrett not calling her mother or ma. Maybe Royce had explained the situation to them.

  Royce helped Texanna into the buckboard. “We’ll bring Garrett out later.”

  On the ride home, Garrett stood behind them and started giving her instructions on how to gather eggs. “Don’t be scared of those hens. Just reach under ‘um and swipe the egg real quick.”

  She heard Royce chuckle and poked him in the ribs.

  “You don’t think I can learn to gather eggs or milk a cow, do you?”

  He shrugged. “It’ll be interesting to see. I don’t know many women who don’t know how.”

  When they got home, Texanna ran upstairs and removed the dress, tossed it over the foot of the bed, and unlaced the corset. “Oh, God. I can breathe again.”

  ****

  Garrett went through the motions of showing Texanna how to gather the eggs and milk the cow. Royce had to admit, she tried, and it was interesting to see Garrett in the role of teacher. The boy made him so proud. But Royce was still flummoxed as to why Texanna didn’t know how to do these ordinary chores.

  They rode horses to the farm, Garrett behind Royce talking nonstop. Texanna was curious to tour the big farmhouse where he’d grown up, so Royce showed her around the place. He watched her peer in the rooms with interest like she’d never seen them.

  It was close to sunset when they got back from the farm. As they saw to the horses, Royce couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Texanna had been a sight that afternoon at grasping Flossie’s teats. Even Garrett had laughed. You’d have thought she was reaching for a snake. But, after considerable work, she had a little milk in the bucket. It would be interesting to see how she managed the next few days.

  As they walked to the house, he put his arm around her waist so she wouldn’t stumble. He found himself touching her at every opportunity. Matthew and Molly were trying to give them some time alone. Not that it would change things between them. He hadn’t had a chance to tell his brother that each day he was more convinced Texanna wasn’t his wife.

  “You want to heat up the coffee and sit on the porch with a cup and watch the sunset?”

  Her smile made his heart lurch. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

  It was hot, but a light breeze cooled them and carried the scent of freshly mowed hay. After dark the mosqui
toes would be out, and they’d have to go inside the house.

  “Were you serious about the judge’s daughter?”

  With the toe of his boot, he sat the rocker in motion. “I’d made up my mind to get a mother for Garrett. She seemed a likely candidate.”

  She snorted. “More like candidate for queen of the wicked stepmothers. She’d have made you and Garrett miserable.”

  “You think so, huh?” He didn’t wait for her answer. “Tell me about the future.”

  “You believe me then?” The excitement in her voice was hard to miss. Her face was radiant, and her hair shone from the rays of the sunset. He wanted to pull her onto his lap, tuck her head under his chin, and rock with her in his arms.

  He sighed. “I wouldn’t say that, but I’m dang curious to hear what you’re going to say.”

  “Strange you should ask. I was thinking earlier how our advanced medical technology would help Matthew and Molly right now. In my time, they would know if their baby was a boy or girl. They’d even have a picture of it before it’s born.”

  He snorted. “That’s not possible.”

  “In my time it is. Very few infants die in the United States, and it’s rare for the mother to die during childbirth. I know Matthew is worried because Molly is so small.”

  “Yes, he’s beside himself with worry.” As was Royce.

  As if reading his thoughts, she reached out and squeezed his hand. The tender gesture touched him, making him ache for the feel of her hands on his body. He shook the feelings away.

  Her face was calm. He watched for signs she was making this all up. “Tell me more. Tell me about the modern revolver you mentioned.”

  Texanna’s face lit with enthusiasm. “Oh, you’d love the guns available. Some carry the bullets in a clip. When you’ve fired all ten rounds, you remove the clip from the handle and put in another.” She leaned over and put her hand on his knee. “And listen to this. You only have to cock it one time, it throws a shell into the chamber, and then you can fire all ten rounds in rapid succession. Be mighty good in a shoot out, wouldn’t it?”

  Well, hell yes, it would. “What is this clip?”

  “It’s a rectangular box that holds ten bullets. I think there is one model that holds more—like sixteen.”

  Lord, she had an imagination to be able to make all this stuff up. Maybe she needed to turn to writing instead of painting. He shook his head. She acts like she believes what she’s saying.

  “The population of Waco is over 100,000 people now. San Antonio is even bigger.”

  “What about those clothes you had on when you arrived?”

  She shrugged. “They’re just plain old ordinary clothes. Everyone dresses that way. Well, actually, young women with good figures do.” She grinned. “Older women are more conservative in the way they dress.”

  Well, at least they’re not all crazy. “You mean it’s common for women to go around in tight men’s pants and a bodice that hugs their breasts?”

  She looked down her nose at him. “Yes. Sometimes the bodices are short and their belly shows.”

  He could barely croak out the words. “And the underwear, that French type underwear ladies of the night wear? Why were you wearing them? Only strumpets wear ‘um.”

  “Actually, prostitution is illegal in the modern world. Well, in the United States, that is. Even so, prostitutes are still available. If they get caught soliciting, they go to jail, as does a man if caught propositioning a hooker for sex.”

  Prostitution was illegal? He shook his head and cleared his throat. “What do men do when they have urges and need a woman?”

  “The same thing a woman does when she needs a man. Go out and find one—at a bar, a party, anywhere—and take him home with her.”

  Royce knew his mouth hung open, but… He’d never heard of anything so…so…hell—he didn’t know what. That was the most indecent thing he’d ever heard, and he’d heard plenty. His face heated in embarrassment and anger at the thought of Texanna…

  Clenching his jaw, he bit out, “I can’t believe—”

  She noticed the look on his face and held up her hand. “Let’s don’t even go there. The modern world is a crazy place, I know. But not everyone has loose morals, myself included.”

  He dropped his head in his hands and massaged his temples. A headache was forming behind his eyes. “And this modern world, you’d prefer to live there, you intend to go back?”

  “Royce, I’m not your Pearl. She’s dead now. But, I had to come back because you didn’t heed my message.”

  Rage, pain, and desire mixed together turned to anguish. His heart pounded and threatened to explode. God, she was driving him crazy.

  “You’ve delivered your message. Why the hell are you still here, then?” He stood and pulled her against him, molding her soft body to his. Hands in her hair, he yanked her head back and lowered his within an inch of her face.

  He knew his voice was harsh, but he couldn’t hide the pain. “Why haven’t you boarded that train to San Antonio and gone back to your modern time?”

  He kissed her moist mouth, his lips hard and unforgiving. Angry and hurt, he wanted to punish her, but at her soft cry, he softened the kiss. He brushed his lips back and forth across hers and teased, tasted, and sipped.

  With his cheek against hers, his voice filled with torment, he asked, “Are you here to torture me, to drive me insane with wanting you?”

  She broke away. “No, no. I want you too. I’m afraid I’m falling in love with you, but I don’t belong here. I can’t stay. You don’t even believe I’m from the future.”

  He shoved her away. “You’ve delivered your message, so go.”

  She lifted her chin, their eyes met and held. “Yes, but you didn’t believe me. When I returned to my time, history had not been changed. You were killed in the shoot out.”

  He raked his heads through his hair and cursed. “Woman, you can’t change history.”

  “I can, and I will. You need to read the book. More than just your life is at stake. Garrett’s is too.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “How can you know such a thing?”

  Royce wanted to hit something and pound it to a pulp. It was one thing for him to get shot, but the idea of Garrett being a train robber at the age of eighteen terrified him. His stomach rolled and bile rose in his throat.

  Texanna stood at the end of the porch, as far away from him as she could get. He had to strain to hear her.

  “From the history book Pearl had, the one I brought back with me.” She stood, quiet and unmoving, then turned to him, her expression cold. “It makes no difference if you believe me or not, because I know it’s a fact. History books don’t lie. It’ll happen August eighth, sometime around noon.”

  She walked to the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” She let the screen door close behind her, stopped, and added. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me where my jeans and tennis shoes are so I can run in the morning. I’m used to jogging at least three days a week, and I don’t want to get out of shape.”

  Then she was gone.

  Royce dropped his head into his hands. Jogging? Just one more thing to confuse him. He didn’t know what to believe. Her stories sounded convincing. Lord, he was going crazy with wanting her. What if he discovered she was telling the truth, would he love her any less? Love? He groaned. Did he love this woman already, regardless of who she was? Yes, dammit, he did. And if she was telling the truth, she’d want to return to her own time.

  It hurt to have her near and not be able to touch her, to… Ah shit! He stood and went inside. It didn’t matter. She was leaving again anyway. He needed to put her from his mind.

  He lit the kerosene lamp sitting on the kitchen table. Texanna’s footsteps and drawers opening and closing could be heard from upstairs. He took his bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and slammed it down on the table. The movement upstairs stopped. Good. He hoped to hell he’d disturbed her. He took
a hefty slug, enjoying the heat as it rolled down his throat and pooled warm in his belly. The sensation reminded him of the past.

  When his search for Pearl ended, he’d spent an entire week drunk, wallowing in his grief. Pete stood in for him at work while he was gone. Pete liked being marshal. What could another week hurt? He’d considered letting Pete have the job permanently—until Matthew and Jason showed up at his door. His brothers spent an entire weekend abusing him—they bathed him, forced food down his throat, and then sat him in front of the portrait of Garrett and closed the door. His child smiled at him from the canvas. He’d sobbed and raged until he dropped from exhaustion. When he woke, he was on the floor below the painting.

  The next day Molly rode up with Garrett. The boy clutched Royce’s neck, and Royce couldn’t put him down—he sensed the boys need, and he recognized his love for his son would sustain him.

  Royce took another drink, corked the bottle, and put it away. The lamp lit the way as he walked upstairs. He undressed, stretched out on the bed, and opened the history book.

  ****

  When Texanna heard Royce’s steps on the stairs she held her breath and swallowed her sobs. She listened as he removed his boots and clothes and heard the give of the springs as he got into bed. And she ached—for what she desired above all things but couldn’t have and would never experience—the touch of the man who could be her life mate. A man not of her time. If only she could stay.

  ****

  Her jeans and tennis shoes were on the foot of the bed the next morning when she woke. Texanna put on an old shirt of Royce’s, rolled up the sleeves, and tied it in a knot at her waist. Then she hurried outside and started her warm-up routine. The slam of the back door announced Royce’s arrival. Texanna tried to avoid his eyes as she stretched her muscles. Her heart was in her throat, the strain between them palpable.

  He handed her the Colt .45. “I want you to wear this. If you need me, fire two shots into the air.”

  It was probably not the most comfortable thing to wear while jogging, but she’d manage. Texanna strapped it on and noticed he’d punched more holes in the gun belt so it would fit around her hips. His thoughtfulness touched her.