Mitch had to admit that Ben was right. Tonight they both had other things on their mind or someone. And that particular someone was a complication he couldn't afford right now. Every time he tried to concentrate on what he should be thinking about, his mind kept going back to a petite perfect body, silky red hair, a copper bathtub, and that passionate little sound she made that resembled the purring of a contented cat.
The sound of the screen door signaled the arrival of their drinks. A bowl of water was put down for Bart. Mitch and Ben took their drinks and sat back in a companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
"You thinking about heading over to Randi's?" Mitch asked quietly as he sipped his drink.
"Thought about it. Don't think I will though. What about you?"
"Thought about it. Don't think I will either." Mitch was surprised that the thought of Randi's huge breasts and insatiable lusty appetite no longer held the same appeal it always had in the past.
Both men turned their heads as a man rounded the corner down the street. Ben pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. "Right on schedule," Ben replied and replaced the watch.
They sat back quietly sipping their drinks, legs propped up on the porch railing, watching as Marshal Wild Bill Hickok, dressed in a long buckskin jacket with fringe, a sawed off shotgun under his arm, walked down the center of Texas Street to do one of his nightly rounds of Abilene.
"Did Katlin tell you when she succeeds in what she was sent here to do she believes she'll be returned to her own time?" Mitch asked almost casually, his eyes remaining on the marshal as he walked down the street.
"She told me," was Ben's equally casual sounding response. It was a subject neither man felt causal about. "How do you feel about the possibility that she could just disappear one day?"
It was a question Mitch couldn't answer. He didn't even want to think about it. So he changed the subject.
"Kat's Twinkies just melt in your mouth, Ben. You should ask her to let you taste them," Mitch said, thinking about the delicious cream-filled cakes Katlin had shared with him on that first night.
"You son of a bitch," Ben hissed as he came so quickly to his feet that the wooden rocker slammed back against the building. Ben grabbed Mitch by the collar and glared down at him, his expression cold as death. "That's my niece you're talking about."
Mitch was so shocked by Ben's reaction it took him a second to realize what Ben thought he had been referring to. He met the challenge in Ben's eyes head on, then threw his head back and roared with laughter.
Chapter Six
The sound of bawling cattle was a deafening roar in Katlin's head as she was pulled relentlessly from the comforting arms of a deep sleep. With a groan of pain, she raised her hands to her pounding head, covering her ears in an attempt to block out the sound. Knowing instinctively that opening her eyes to the bright morning sun would produce unpleasant results, Katlin kept her eyes tightly closed as she attempted to reconstruct in her mind the events of the previous evening.
Katlin was able to recall the entire evening up to the point where she had stepped into the copper tub. The impression of bathing and washing her hair was vague. From that point on, there was nothing, except the dream that remained in her mind with vivid clarity. The same dream that had reoccurred off and on since she was a teenager. She tried to relax, mentally willing herself to go back to sleep, back to a place where she'd felt safe and loved. The painful pounding in her head and the churning sensation in her stomach refused to be ignored.
She was in bed. That much was obvious even though she had no idea how she had managed to get herself here. She removed one hand from her ear, wincing at the intruding sound, and felt beneath the quilt to substantiate the suspicion that she was stark naked beneath the covers.
"How could I have been so stupid?" Katlin muttered under her breath.
"I was about to ask you the same question."
Katlin bolted upright in the bed, clutching the quilt to her breast. Her eyes snapped opened only to close immediately against the bright sunlight that sent piercing pin pricks of pain into her pupils. Shielding her eyes from the glare with her free hand, Katlin slowly opened her eyes to find LuChen Sing seated at the foot of her bed, leaning comfortably back against one of the posts.
"Isn't there a shade or something on that window?" she groaned miserably.
Sing looked toward the window and the pull down shade slowly lowered, dimming the room to a nearly tolerable level.
Katlin opened her mouth to speak then shut it as her stomach churned in rebellion against the abuse to which she had put it the night before.
"Oh God," she moaned before clasping her hand across her mouth. Katlin lurched from the bed, wrapping the sheet around her as she rushed across the room to throw herself to the floor in front of the chamber pot discretely located behind a folding screen. Just before Katlin and the contents of her stomach parted company, she heard Sing chuckle.
"That's why they call it a hangover."
Several minutes later, sheet secured around her sarong fashion, Katlin was seated on the bed across from her old teacher. She dropped her face into a damp washcloth she clutched in her hands and muttered, "You don't have to lecture me on my stupidity. My behavior was irresponsible, and we both know it."
"Actually, Little One, that is the furthest thing from my mind," was Sing's surprising response.
Shocked by his tolerance to what she considered her own inexcusable behavior, Katlin lowered the washcloth and looked into Sing's sympathetic eyes.
"A lot has been thrown at you, Katlin. Although getting drunk wasn't the wisest thing you've ever done, it was understandably human," he explained then reached over to give her a fond pat on the knee. "There have been many times over the years when I've been concerned that you've forgotten that fact. No one, in heaven or on earth, expects you to be perfect except you.
Katlin was at a loss for words. She, who had no tolerance for anyone who drank to excess, had rebelliously drank herself into a stupor where she didn't even remember getting into bed. A drunk driver had killed her mother, her baby brother, and had in essence destroyed her family. As a result, on the rare occasion she drank alcohol at all, she was a one drink person and only then when she wasn't driving.
Still, Katlin couldn't help berating herself for her actions. In her mind, there was no acceptable excuse for her behavior. She didn't even want to imagine what Mitch and Ben must think of her.
"Stop being your own judge, jury, and executioner, Katlin." Sing insisted sternly. "What's done is done. Let it go so you can get on with the job at hand."
"You're right," Katlin admitted reluctantly. She closed her eyes and began taking deep cleansing breaths in an effort to get in control of her muddled thoughts, but the incessant pounding in her head blocked everything out. She wasn't aware that Sing had moved until she felt his cool fingertips at the temples and heard his soft, almost hypnotic, sing song voice.
"Keep your eyes closed and focus on the sound of my voice," he instructed. "Visualize the pain as a red light of energy pulsating inside your head. Concentrate. See it. Feel it."
Katlin did as instructed. It wasn't difficult because that was exactly what it felt like. The throbbing in her head matched the pulsating of the red light in perfect time and intensity. For barely an instant she feared she was going to be sick again, but she fought back the sensation.
"Now, visualize the red light and the pain flowing from you, into the tips of my fingers. Feel the coolness of my fingers drawing the heat of the pain from you."
In her mind, she could see his fingertips at her temples, feel their coolness absorbing the pain like a sponge. Slowly the throbbing began to subside, and, with the lessening of pain, her stomach also began to settle.
"Deep cleansing breaths, Katlin," the sing song voice continued. "The tips of my fingers are magnets drawing all the toxins from your body. See it. Feel the negative energies flowing from you and being pulled into the magnets."
> Even though she felt much better, Katlin held her mental focus on the sound of Sing's voice, on the feel of the fingertips at her temples.
"The fog has dissipated. Your mind is sharp and clear. Your body is rested and energized. See it. Feel it. Know it to be true, and it will be."
It worked. Not only did Katlin feel better, she felt great. Sing's fingertips were removed from her temples, and she opened her eyes to find that he was once again seated at the foot of the bed.
"Thank you, Sing," was her heartfelt response. "I don't think I have ever felt so rotten in my life."
"There is nothing to thank me for. You did it yourself, I merely helped you focus your energies. Under other circumstances, you could have done it without my help."
That was true . . . up to a point. Katlin knew the technique and had used it many times, yet she had a strong suspicion Sing had a lot to do with her feeling so good, so fast.
Thankful to be in control of her mental faculties once again, Katlin leaned back against the headboard. "Okay, Sing, how much can you tell me?"
"Not much. The events which have been set into motion were initiated by the free will of the people involved. I can not tell you anything which will influence your actions or interfere with the course of events."
"That's pretty much what I expected you to say." It might have been what she expected but not what she had hoped to hear.
"You have many questions, Little One. Some I can answer, some I can not . . . some, if you look into your heart, you will find that you already know the answer."
"Mitch?"
Sing's answer to her one word question was a mere nod of his head. It was one of those questions where she already knew part of the answer, but where Mitch was concerned, part wasn't enough.
"We've been lovers in a past lifetime." Katlin's statement brought further confirmation from Sing.
"You've been together many times."
"Mitch and Matthew in my dream are one and the same, aren't they? It really happened, and the dream is a memory. What happened in that lifetime, Sing?" From the closed expression that entered Sing's eyes, Katlin knew he wasn't going to tell her what she wanted to know.
"There is a reason humans are not permitted to remember details of past lifetimes. That knowledge would make it impossible for a soul to fulfill its destiny in a new lifetime. The full memory of love found and love lost, pain, guilt, anger, and the accompanying emotions from many lifetimes would be a burden no human could bear."
Sing's statement reinforced what Katlin already knew about the reincarnation belief system. The soul remembered, but the subconscious blocked out what the conscious mind was not capable of dealing with. The dream shared with Matthew, who she now knew to also be Mitchell Cameron, was to help her reconnect with him. She was allowed to remember what she needed to know, nothing more, nothing less.
Somewhere deep in her heart, Katlin also knew the answer to the next question before she asked it. "We didn't live happily ever after in that lifetime, did we?"
Sing shook his head sadly. "It was due to the interference and manipulations of others that Matthew and Megan, as you were called then, left that lifetime with much pain and karma to be balanced. The circumstances and the painful memories of that lifetime have influenced the lifetimes that have followed."
"Then why wasn't I sent back to that lifetime to change things?" Even as she asked the question, Katlin felt an almost suffocating sensation of panic.
"It was considered but rejected. Although this time period is not without risk for you, it is nothing compared to the dangers awaiting you there. It isn't necessary for you to relive the tragedy of that lifetime to heal the emotional wounds and to balance the resulting karma."
As the inexplicable sensation of panic began to subside, so too came the realization that she didn't want to know more. Sing had been right. There was a reason people were not permitted to remember, unless it became necessary. She had been given the gift of one small memory of the love they had shared through a dream, and it was enough.
"Reuniting you with Mitch Cameron was not the only reason you have been sent to this particular time, Katlin," Sing informed her. "You are here to right a wrong which has been carried into the future."
"I suspected as much," Katlin admitted. "But you can't tell me what or who is involved?" Sing's answer to the question was not to answer, and his image began to fade. Before he disappeared completely, Katlin had one more question she hoped he would be able to answer.
"Sing, what is my connection to Ben Thompson?"
Although his image was no more than a ghostly mist, Katlin was able to see his lips curve into a smile. "I'm surprised you haven't figured that one out, Little One. The answer is simple . . . twins."
"Twins?"
"Exactly. The first lifetime you shared you were twins, brother and sister. The bond between you was so strong, it has drawn you together in a close relationship in every lifetime since. Along with the love between soul mates, the connection between twins is also a bond that remains unbroken, even in death."
With Sing's last bit of enlightening information, his image disappeared. Only his voice remained to answer one final question before Katlin could voice it.
"The answer is yes. The soul of Ben Thompson in this time period and your Uncle Ben in the future are one and the same."
Prior to leaving her room, Katlin inspected her appearance in the oval oak-framed cheval mirror. Dressed in boots, blue jeans, and a white blouse topped with her doe skin vest to conceal her shoulder holster, she felt almost like her old self. In truth, she felt better than she had in a long time. Always one to give credit where credit was due, Katlin knew Sing had somehow given her a physical and mental boost which would account for her sense of well being and burst of energy.
What she longed to do was don her shorts, tank top, and jogging shoes and go for a long run. An action she was sure would set the tongues in Abilene to wagging.
"Whatever you did, old friend," she spoke aloud even though there was no one else in the room, at least no one she could see, "If I could bottle it and sell it on the streets, I'd make a fortune."
Foregoing her customary braid, she brushed her hair to one side and secured it with a ponytail holder, allowing her thick tresses to fall over her left shoulder and cascade over her breast to conceal the presence of her hand gun even further. Her make up consisted of nothing more than a little moisturizer, a couple of strokes with the mascara brush, and barely a whisper of blush and lip gloss, giving her a fresh no make up look.
While freely accepting her mode of dress would raise more than a few eyebrows, the last thing she needed was to be mistaken for one of the painted doves who worked the saloons and bordellos in the area.
Giving herself a thumbs up signal in the mirror, she was ready to face the day and to contend with anything unexpected which might be thrown her way.
Katlin left her room, nearly tripping over Bart laying on a folded quilt in the hallway in front of her door. She went to her knees and stroked his silky head to be rewarded with a gaze from the dog's dark eyes which could only be described as one of self imposed martyrdom.
If the dog could speak, Katlin wouldn't have been surprised to hear him bark, "While you were getting shitfaced, I was taking my responsibility seriously."
Then Katlin noticed the huge ham bone trapped beneath her dog's paws, the bowl of water, plus two other empty dishes.
"You poor thing, I can see that these awful people have mistreated you terribly," she spoke to Bart with feigned sympathy. Bart's tail began thumping the floor rhythmically, and Katlin chuckled, "You're a fraud, my friend, and you've got them spoiling you rotten."
Pulling the ham bone from beneath Bart's paws, Katlin got to her feet. She tossed the bone into her room then closed and locked the door. "Your treat will still be here when we get back," she said as she pocketed the key. Katlin bent to retrieve the empty dishes then began walking toward the stairs leading to the main room of the saloon.
Taking a deep breath, Katlin forced an unconcerned smile to her lips and steeled herself to join the men as if she'd done nothing the night before for which she should be embarrassed.
She had barely taken two steps before she realized she was being watched. Katlin froze mid-step. Her hand gripped the banister as she met Mitch's blue gaze across the room. A gaze that had the power to touch her like a physical caress, heating her blood and making her nerve ends tingle. She forced herself to remain motionless, betraying no reaction as his eyes slowly slid down her body then up again.
Mitch's eyebrow arched up slightly, and did she detect a note of surprise? He no doubt expected her to spend most of the day in bed, nursing a hangover, which she freely admitted would have served her right.
Katlin couldn't remember the last time she was so tempted to give in to an incredibly childish gesture like propping her rear on the banister and sliding down. Oh how she was tempted. But then again, Mitch Cameron had the unsettling ability to bring out the worst in her. Instead, she favored him with a cheeky grin then descended the stairs. She couldn't resist, however, emphasizing the energetic bounce in her steps.
Going first to the bar in the hope of obtaining a cup of coffee, Katlin extended the empty dishes toward Tom who took them from her and put them in the sudsy water.
"Thanks for looking after my friend here," she said, stroking Bart's head.
"Tweren't just me, Miss Katlin," Tom responded, looking over the bar toward the dog at her side. "When the boss got back last night, the dog raced up the stairs and scratched at your door wantin' you to let him in. Guess you was sleepin' to sound to hear him."
"Out cold was more like it," Katlin thought to herself, suspecting they were the same words Tom was thinking but was too polite to voice.
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