The Cowboy from Christmas Past

by The Cowboy from Christmas Past (lit)

She sighed. "You landed in a stage show where I was performing. You were wearing your duster and had Rose in your arms. I thought you were a new extra who hadn't had time to find a babysitter. I took you home to help you out, but I knew something wasn't ordinary about you when you levitated off my sofa."

  He looked into her big eyes, and saw that she believed she was telling the truth.

  "And why don't I remember any of this?"

  She shook her head. "I haven't figured that out. Maybe traveling back in time to where you belong erased your memory."

  "But you recall everything."

  "I don't belong here," she told him. "When you were in my century, you remembered everything about your life here."

  "So if you don't belong here, and I don't belong there, have we been brought together for any type of…"

  She looked at him. "Romantic reasons? No. I'd just broken off an engagement. It's not a good time for me to take up with another man. Also, you and I have nothing in common, as you've figured out by now."

  "Was I as helpless in your century?"

  She smiled. "More so. But you were trying to figure out how to manage a baby, too. I just have to figure out how to boil water without using a microwave."

  "Microwave?"

  "Never mind."

  "So," he said with a sigh, wondering what this all meant, "why did it happen?"

  "We thought it was the baby who brought us together, since you traveled forward when you picked her up off the porch. That was all we could think of at the time."

  He considered Auburn's soft red-brown curls and her bow-shaped lips. "Did I accidentally land in the traveling show? Or was there a reason?"

  "It wasn't a traveling show, it was just an amusement park. And I think it was random coincidence. There was no particular reason for you to travel there."

  "Except for you."

  She shook her head. "But anyone might have taken you home."

  "Did anyone else notice me?"

  She blinked. "I—I don't know. I called in my resignation that night, leaving a message for Harry that I had to quit. He left me a message in return that he'd forward my check wherever I wanted it to go. I gave him my parents' address, but he never mentioned anything about you at all." She frowned, looking at the baby. "Now that I think about it, none of the other performers seemed particularly shocked that a man and a baby had suddenly appeared onstage. The audience thought it was part of the show, I guess."

  "So it's possible that only you could see me."

  "No, because the security guard saw you later on at my penthouse." She shook her head. "It has nothing to do with me. Like I said, random coincidence."

  That didn't completely suit him. He liked the idea that she'd been meant to find him. If that was the case, it meant there was a reason for his traveling through time.

  Yet he couldn't figure out the connection between him and Auburn and the baby. "How do you get back?"

  "I don't know," Auburn said, and gave an unexpected sniffle. He was afraid she was about to cry, a horrifying thought really, because she'd been calm up to now, and he sensed that calm ebbing away.

  "I miss my family," she said, wiping at her eyes. "I know they made some mistakes, but it was only my intention to be gone a little while, let the air clear around my wedding and the bad financial deals and everything. And I know it's kind of cool with you to be out here, all Lonesome Gunslinger on the Prairie, but I need people. I want to be with my family at Christmas. Frankly, I'll go mad if I have nothing to listen to out here but the wind blowing."

  He was stunned. It had never occurred to him that maybe she was stuck here. "We'll figure something out." One more thing was niggling at him. "About that kissing business—"

  "Never mind about that," Auburn said. "Forget I mentioned it."

  "Well, it would be hard for me to kiss a woman not my wife," he said, feeling he had to explain.

  "Funny, you didn't mention that in my century."

  "Well, we're here now. In my house."

  In her house. The unspoken words hung between them. Auburn's eyes went wide, and he could tell she was surprised by his feelings. Maybe he was overly sentimental, but it hadn't been that long, only a year, since Polly had died. This still felt like her home. "I'm sorry," he said.

  "Don't be," Auburn murmured. "I'd feel the same way about being married. Sort of too close to it."

  He nodded. She looked so sweet and vulnerable right now and he tried not to think about kissing her. Then he wondered about holding her as a man held a woman…and then he made himself think about the turkey he'd just plucked and dressed, so he wouldn't think about Auburn in his arms anymore.

  But she was beginning to play on his mind.

  Like a wonderfully magical spell.

  He had to send her back, though, if he could figure out a way to do it. After glancing at her as she gently picked Rose up from the fur rug so she could rock her, he went over to his bookshelf and thoughtfully considered every title on the ledge.

  Then he chose a book of children's fairy tales and sat down to think.

  * * *

  BY DAY THREE AUBURN had figured out the outhouse—using it wasn't as bad as she'd expected, but it was certainly no picnic—learned how to take a bath and wash her hair, and snitched a pair of Dillinger's oldest jeans and a large flannel shirt so she could wash her clothes.

  All in all, she was beginning to feel like a pioneer. The adventurous side of her, the side that wanted to drive across the United States, work at different places, meet different people while she recovered from her wedding meltdown, was feeling pretty satisfied. The only thing taking the bloom off her rose was that she couldn't call an end to this vacation and go home.

  Her gaze found Dillinger as he took the turkey from the stove. It was perfectly roasted. He'd surrounded the bird with potatoes and some carrots. He'd stuffed it with an onion. The house smelled heavenly, but this didn't really feel like Christmas to Auburn. "Why are we celebrating the holiday early?"

  "Who knows how long you'll be here?" Dillinger didn't look her way as he basted the turkey. "You could get whisked back any day now."

  "I hope so."

  "Then again, you might be here permanently."

  She dreaded the thought, which loomed large and painful, and a distinct possibility.

  Unless it was the baby.

  "I've been thinking," Dillinger said. "I know I said I'd never kiss you, but if you want me to, I will."

  Auburn shook her head. "I respect your feelings about your wife."

  He winced. "It's not the same."

  Auburn wasn't certain she liked that. "So you'd be the admirable prince doing his duty, and off I'd go?"

  He shrugged, and stuffed the turkey back into the black iron stove.

  "Maybe I'll just click my heels together three times, murmur 'There's no place like home,' and that would work, too."

  "Sometimes I don't understand what you're talking about."

  She wandered to the fireplace to look at the beautiful wooden cradle Dillinger had brought down from the attic. When she'd asked him where he'd gotten it, he hadn't answered. By the pained look on his face, she figured it had been planned for his and Polly's children.

  Rose liked the cradle just fine. She slept in it in the guest room with Auburn, snug and warm. "How much longer until the snow clears, do you think?"

  "Another day or so. If you want, I'll take you to town in the buckboard so you can get some clothes. They won't have a lot of ready-made things, but perhaps some of the women can help you with something."

  "Oh, no, thank you," Auburn said. She might have to live here a long time, and the last thing she wanted was people gossiping about her and Dillinger living together unmarried. In her time it wouldn't have mattered so much; in this era, it would.

  "I feel stir-crazy," she murmured.

  "You're homesick, not snow mad. It's normal," Dillinger told her. "Let's go outside."

  "And leave the baby?"

  "Oh." He closed th
e stove door and turned to look at her. "You're right. And I can't take her outside. I'd be too afraid of pneumonia."

  "It's all right," Auburn said. "How are the fairy tales?"

  "Well, they've made me think that you may be onto something about kissing. It can be a powerful talisman."

  "Oh, I believe it," Auburn said, her spirits lifting at the thought of kissing him. It had to be the only way to get home. But she didn't want him to feel bad about it, as if he was dishonoring his wife in any way. Auburn had a funny feeling that if the kiss had negative vibes attached to it, it might backfire. "With my luck, I'd end up in ancient Egypt."

  "I'm not that bad of a kisser!" Dillinger washed his hands in a bucket of water he'd warmed, dried them and said, "After our Christmas dinner, I suggest we experiment with your idea."

  "All right." Here's wishing on every lucky star in the universe that he's got the magic kiss.

  * * *

  FROM THE EDGE OF the forest, Pierre could see smoke rising from the chimney of Dillinger's house. He was back. Pierre knew the gunslinger would return, but he hadn't expected company, which completely ruined Pierre's plans.

  A woman walked outside, tossed water into the snow, went back in the house. Pierre held a spyglass up to his eye, trying to see who she might be. No one in town would come to visit Dillinger; Pierre had seen to the complete ruin of the scoundrel's reputation.

  That meant he'd brought someone from outside Christmas River. It made Pierre even more angry. How dare Dillinger think he was going to go on and live his life as if Polly had never been in it?

  If Dillinger thought he could replace her with another wife, Pierre would figure out a way to put a quick stop to that. His sister had never known happiness, and Dillinger would not know happiness, either. Pierre would wait until the rancher left the house, and pay a call on his visitor, find out what the gunslinger was up to.

  If she was a woman brought to provide companionship for Dillinger Kent, she would quickly hear many reasons why she needed to pack up and go home as soon as the train tracks cleared.

  If he had done the unthinkable and found himself a mail order bride, Dillinger would soon find himself a widower once again.

  The thought made Pierre smile.

  Chapter Eleven

  "Dinner is served," Dillinger said. He was trying to be courtly, having learned something from the fairy tales he'd been consuming in his pursuit of a theory on how to send a princess back to wherever she belonged. Not that Auburn acted like a princess. He felt bad that he'd said that to her, because she did pitch in and try to be helpful. And there was a lot to learn. But he was starting to think of her as a princess. He was no prince, not even a knight, but he would save her from her dilemma if he could. It was obvious that she missed her family dreadfully, and he understood that the Christmas season was bringing that emotion into sharper focus for her.

  "And I brought up a bottle of blackberry wine," he added.

  "Mmm," Auburn said. "This is a feast."

  That was all the praise he needed. Dillinger carved the turkey, placed a slice on her plate, along with some potatoes and vegetables. He loaded his up, as well, and glanced at Rose sleeping peacefully in her cradle. "None for you, I'm afraid," he told the baby, and Auburn smiled.

  "It's even too soon for us to mash some of this up and feed it to her," she said. "But by next year, she'll be ready for her own little plate of Christmas dinner."

  Auburn wouldn't be here to see it, if he had anything to do about it. Dillinger watched her eat, enjoying her expression as she savored every mouthful. "Does it taste like turkey in your time?"

  "It tastes fresher," she admitted. "Most of the time our food is frozen, though Mom buys her turkey at the butcher's market every year, fresh from a farm. Still, this somehow tastes even better."

  "After dinner, I'm going to show you the moon and the stars," Dillinger told her. "Out here the sky is so black at night you can see stars for miles. We can stand on the porch and look at the full moon."

  "I'd enjoy that."

  They ate in silence for a while until Auburn finally said, "I'm stuffed."

  He was, too. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off her the entire time, he realized, and hadn't paid attention to a single bite he put in his mouth. He was full of food but empty of love, a well inside him that was beginning to fill with Auburn. "Would you be more comfortable in one of Polly's dresses?" he asked slowly. "She was about your size…and you must be tired of wearing my clothes and those things you have on."

  Auburn glanced down at the soft pants she called sweats. "I'm all right."

  "You'd be warmer in a long dress and boots. I should have thought of it sooner." He felt stupid for not recalling that Polly had a closetful of clothes he hadn't been able to part with. "It would make me happy to know that her things were being put to use. For that matter, it would make Polly happy to know that her clothes aren't just sitting in a closet for no one to enjoy."

  Auburn's gaze met his. "If you really think—"

  "I do." He nodded. "I'll clean the table and you go back to Polly's closet and find something you'd like to wear." He felt good about this. A year was long enough to selfishly hold all of her memories to himself, especially when Auburn needed clothes so badly and wouldn't go to town to get any.

  "Then I will. Thank you."

  She got up from the table and went down the hall. He busied himself with storing the leftover turkey and washing the dishes. After about ten minutes had passed, he heard a small sound behind him.

  Dillinger turned to find Auburn in a bottle-green worsted wool dress with long sleeves and a bell-shaped skirt. He smiled. "That's better."

  "It fits perfectly, as if it was made for me. Thank you," Auburn said. "I actually was quite tired of my sweats."

  He put the last of the dishes in the cupboard. "Let's go outside." She'd probably needed a break, and Rose was soundly sleeping for the moment so it was now or never.

  On the wide porch, he pointed up to the sky. "Stars as far as the eye can see."

  "Yes," Auburn said, her voice reverent, "it's lovely. We don't see this many stars in the city."

  "Why?" He loved looking at the night sky, didn't think he could stand it if he couldn't see lots of stars.

  "City lights, tall buildings, glare from neon signs." Auburn craned her neck to see the moon. "This is like a slice of heaven."

  He'd always thought so. "I'm sorry I brought you here, into 1892."

  She looked at him. "You believe me?"

  "Yes, although I can't figure it out."

  "I can't, either. But it happened."

  "One thing I don't understand is that you said I levitated."

  "You did. Twice."

  "Why haven't you done that here? Shouldn't it work in reverse?"

  "I don't know," she said. "It was really weird. And I saw your life when I held Polly's earring."

  "I still can't believe simple gold earrings can be a charm. I'd rather believe in the kissing."

  She laughed. "You don't want to kiss me."

  "Yeah," he said, "I do."

  Her eyes widened with surprise, the flood of starlight clearly illuminating her expression. "You do?"

  "If it sends you back, sure, I'd kiss you."

  "Right now?"

  "This very instant."

  He could feel her breath catch as she waited expectantly. "I'll hate to say goodbye to you," he said quietly, "but here goes nothing."

  And then he pulled her into his arms and drew her lips to his, closing his eyes as he waited for the magic to steal her away from him.

  A rifle shot rang out, echoing loudly in the clearing between the house and the forest. Shocked, Dillinger and Auburn jumped away from each other.

  "Turkey hunter?" she asked with a gasp.

  "Get in the house," Dillinger commanded.

  * * *

  THE BABY WAS STILL ASLEEP, even though Auburn's heart was beating loudly enough to wake the dead. The kiss hadn't worked! She was still h
ere, and someone had taken a potshot at Dillinger. That gunfire hadn't sounded anything like the Old West show at Six Flags; it sounded much more serious than the rat-a-tat of fake shooting.

  She was frightened. For him, and for herself. And Rose.

  He came inside a few moments later, heading straight to the fireplace to warm up.

  "Did you catch whoever it was?" Auburn asked.