The Talisman - Crisscross

by Shaunna Gonzales

Chapter 48

  Quinn awoke while it was still dark. The filly danced under saddle, ready to stretch her legs in the crisp morning air.

  He could only hope he wasn't too late. Trish had said good-bye last evening and refused his invitation. She'd had her reason and it was a good reason, but if she truly felt she couldn't leave while possibly carrying his child, he would remedy the situation. Either he would convince her to stay here with him, or he would go with her to whatever strange future she claimed as home.

  He'd watched her run up the steps to the saloon without looking back. She'd said goodbyes were torture for her, but what if it didn't need to be goodbye? What if she just needed a better reason to stay? She'd admitted that she wasn't involved. Maybe she needed a contract of some kind. He had barely told her he loved her. Maybe she needed a commitment from him. If that was what she needed, he would make it. He would ask her to marry him.

  He mounted and allowed the filly to spend all of her energy, urging her to cross the river at full stride. When he reached the livery, he sat back in the saddle. The filly slid to a halt within inches of where he'd cued her, the animal's energy spent. Trish stood on the bridge, exactly where they had stood last evening. She turned to face the saloon and then she seemed to melt into thin air.

  "Noooo." Quinn dug his heels into the tired animal's heaving sides. The filly lounged forward. At the bridge, he swung from the saddle before the filly slid to a stop. The bridge was empty. He ran to the middle of its span as if just by being there, she would reappear. Placing heavy hands on the railing, he lowered his head. She was gone. He'd waited too long in indecision. She had said she wouldn't be coming back. How could he have let this happen? What a fool he'd been. She'd returned to trade her life for his. He had watched her do it and let her. She'd gambled and won and he hadn't even said "thank you." He'd told her he loved her but it wasn't enough to hold her. He had played his Ace too late. He'd gambled that he could stop her and he'd lost.

  "Trish, I'll never forget you and someday, if God is willing, I'll find a way to you. I promise."

 

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  Watch for her next release.

  Trish took the talisman from around her neck and gently kissed it before tucking it in a box. It had served her well and she was thankful but now it was time to put it away. She wondered as she had every time she’d pulled it out, if Quinn Jackson, with all of his wildness, were there to love her again if she should return to him. Yet she knew that she shouldn’t wonder for she couldn’t return to 1887. She closed the lid and put it in her top drawer. Her cell phone rang and she hurried to pick it up, shutting the drawer as she did so.

  “Hello, is this Patricia Larsen?” came the voice from the phone.

  “Yes, yes it is.”

  “Andrew Jackson, here. I hope it is alright to call you. Vance gave me your number.”

  “Yes, of course.” She couldn’t help but wonder what this call was about. Then again, Vance gave him my number. Why would Vance be so bold?

  “I’d like to come by and take a look at your stud.”

  “Oh sure, when would it be convenient for you?” She felt slightly miffed. Had Vance ventured into her plan for stud service? He hadn’t told her anything about an Andrew Jackson. Of course, she hadn’t been around that much. He sounded young and well, possibly good looking. Oh, for those cell phones that had picture capabilities. Maybe, it could happen with Skpe being so widely used. Maybe she could go forward in time and glean some resources.

  “I’m in the valley, so how about I stop by now?” His words yanked her back to reality.

  She hadn’t been to the riding arena yet today and needed to go. “Um, sure. I’ll get my boots on and meet you at the arena.”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen.” He hung up.

  Fifteen minutes. She had better hurry. Tucking in her cowboy shirt, she hurried along. She had just enough time to get there, to heck with grabbing a bite to eat.

  Fifteen minutes later, she found herself at the arena at Vance’s house. The yard had a building style enclosure on the north to keep the cold weather at bay and several paddocks attached. The round pen stood opposite the paddocks with the pasture beyond. The arena stood next to the round pen. She checked the water for the horses and watched as a man drove into the yard in a recent model pick-up. He climbed out, looking long, lean, and wide shouldered. He placed a hat over his short, light brown American crew hair cut as he exited the cab. His ready smile beneath his closely shaved beard was disarming. His casual introduction on the phone hadn’t been wrong—he was cute, well, in a masculine way. All thoughts of a long lost love disappeared.

  He strode toward her and her breath caught.

  “Hello, you must be Patricia.” His tone came out honey smooth.

  “Yes, and its Trish.” She extended her hand to him instinctively. Could he get any yummier? He took her hand in his warm hand shake. Her knees weakened.

  “Well if it’s Trish, call me Andy.” His eyes danced as he spoke.

  “What brings you to our little valley, Andy?”

  “Some horses. Is this your stud?” He looked at Yedi. Yedi stood behind her in a paddock.

  “Yes, it is. Would you care to see him in motion?”

  He stepped closer to Yedi’s enclosure. Yedi snorted and trotted away.

  “He’s a bit flighty but won’t warm to you.” She watched him and Yedi.

  “I can see that. Yes, I’d like to see him in motion.”

  She gathered a halter to put on Yedi, and led him to the arena and turned him out. Yedi sniffed the ground, his dark pigment showing through around his muzzle and his flanks. He started to trot around the arena. She bent over and picked up a gallon jug that lay on the ground and shook it. The rocks in the jug made for a decent rattle. She bent over to climb into the arena. Yedi picked up his heels and trotted around the arena to sniff the bottle. She shook it again and he bolted sideways and kicked up his heels. She shook the bottle again and Yedi answered with several crow-hopping jumps that turned to an all out canter for several strides. She smiled and returned to the side where the young man stood. She stood and watched Yedi, his mane and tail dancing in the breeze. Occasionally she shook the jug, getting him to buck and run.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “He’s put together real nice. How does he take to a saddle?”

  “Very well. I ride him most days,” she proudly proclaimed. “But I haven’t yet today. I’ll go after you leave. I’ll probably ride him home.”

  “You don’t live here?” his voice tendered surprise.

  “No, this is my cousin’s place.” She tucked a stray strand of her auburn hair behind one ear.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t have insisted on fifteen minutes had I known that.” His expression took on a guilty air making him all the more attractive.

  “It’s okay, really. I usually come over here every day, anyway.” She bumped her toe at a mound in the dirt. She revised her earlier opinion of him. He wasn’t cute, he was downright gorgeous. How could she attract his attention?

  “Do you guarantee live foals?”

  She dragged her foot in the dirt of the arena. What should she say? She tugged nervously at her cowboy shirt. Yedi had been active since this spring when she’d caught him in the neighbor’s field with a couple of mares, but his foals hadn’t been live as of yet. Would they be?

  “I don’t know. He hasn’t sired any foals yet, at least none to my knowledge.”

  “I see. So he’s an unproven sire?”

  She hated admitting it. “Yes.”

  He stepped to the rails and leaned on them as he watched Yedi for a few minutes. She wondered if that was the end of it. Oh great, her first client and she may very well lose him here. Not to mention losing his attention.

  She climbed ba
ck through the rails and stood there. Setting the bottle down, she moved away from him. Maybe if she gave him room, he would come to her like a fly to ointment.

  “What if I just give you a down payment until the live foal is on the ground? Would that be acceptable to you?”

  His offer was generous and she appreciated it. A down payment would greatly help their cash flow. He wasn’t asking for her to return the money if the foal were not viable, only a chance to see if it were.

  “Yes, that would be fine. When do you want to bring your mare?”

  They discussed terms of the stud service for several minutes. As they finished he asked her, “Dinner?”

  Dinner? As in an actual dinner date? She stepped back and coughed, reminding herself of her newly resolved mantra. I will become a defense attorney, I will, even I have yet to pass the Idaho State bar exam. Then again she was just recently out of a very real, if only a bit ‘time warped’ relationship. Here he was asking her to dinner. Well, it’s just dinner. No big deal and that will be the end of it. Right Oh, but his eyes…could they be anymore captivating?

  “You’re asking me to dinner?”

  “Yes.” She answered a little more emphatically than she meant to.

  She didn’t know what to say. She had never been asked to dinner. Oh, there were the after work meetings that were more like dinner dates, when she worked in the law firm but never an out-and-out date. She reconsidered him. His eyes where bright, were they brown? The line of his jaw seemed strong. No, she couldn’t. It was too soon, but was it? She had said goodbye to the man of her dreams with a resounding, no. Was trying here and now so bad?