Journey to Yesterday

by Madeline Baker

  Alejandro caught Shaye’s amused expression and gave a slight shrug, as if to say, what can I do?

  She might have told him if another woman hadn’t come storming up to the table, eyes narrowed, mouth drawn in a tight angry line. Shaye knew immediately that it had to be Daisy Sullivan. She was short and slender, with a wealth of black hair, an olive complexion, and blue eyes. She wore an expensive looking low-cut wine-red dress and matching slippers. A gold locket nestled in the hollow of her throat. Shaye wondered if it was the one mentioned in Daisy’s diary, the one Alejandro had given her for her birthday.

  “I’m not paying you to throw yourself in the customers’ arms, Maddy Brown,” the woman said.

  Maddy looked over her shoulder. “Funny, I thought you were. Or maybe it’s just this customer you don’t want me throwing myself at.”

  An angry flush swept into the woman’s cheeks. “Get out.”

  Alejandro stood up. “Now wait a minute, Daisy…”

  “You’re no longer the boss here, Rio,” Daisy said, eyes flashing. “Get out, Maddy. I should have fired you long ago. Go on, get!”

  Alejandro laid a hand on Maddy’s arm. “Pete’s looking for girls over at the Number Six. Tell him I sent you.”

  “Thanks, Rio.” Maddy gave Daisy a smug look, then smiled up at Rio. “See you soon, Rio, honey.”

  Alejandro nodded. He waited until Maddy was out of sight, then turned to Daisy. “That was uncalled for.”

  “It’s none of your business what I do.”

  “That’s right, it isn’t. Good night.”

  “Rio! Rio, wait. I’m sorry.”

  She reached for him, but he shook off her hand. “Let’s go, Shaye.”

  “Rio!”

  Alejandro took Shaye’s arm and they left the saloon.

  Outside, Alejandro took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “I should have known better than to go in there, but I thought… Oh, hell, it doesn’t matter. Come on, I’ll walk you back to the hotel.”

  Alejandro left her at the door. Shaye watched him walk away, then went inside and shut the door. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she took off her boots and stockings. The half-boots were kind of cute, but you just couldn’t beat a good pair of tennis shoes for comfort. She sat there a minute, wiggling her toes. Ah, but that felt good. She shook her head, amused and amazed that she was actually living in the past. With a sigh, she fell back on the mattress and closed her eyes.

  Alejandro’s image immediately sprang to mind. He could be a poster boy for tall, dark, and handsome, she mused. He had the most beautiful eyes. They were a deep dark brown, fringed with short stubby black lashes. When he looked at her, she felt it clear down to her toes. She liked everything about him, she mused, from the coppery color of his skin to the sometimes sardonic look in his eyes that told her he was no stranger to the darker side of life. Like it or not, she was attracted to him. When she was with him, everything else seemed to fly right out of her mind. He was far and away too handsome and much too charming for his own good, she thought, and for hers, too.

  With a sigh, she rolled onto her side, her head pillowed on her hand. He was just a man, she told herself, no different than any other, but she didn’t believe it for a minute. She had never felt like this before, all shivery and excited inside, as if she were on the brink of some marvelous discovery. And even as the thought crossed her mind, she wondered just what it was she was feeling. Why, of all the people who had come through Bodie in the last hundred years, was she the one who had seen the ghost of Alejandro Valverde in the jail, felt his thoughts, his anguish? Why…?

  She woke to the sound of a clock chiming the hour. For a moment, she thought she was at home, but the bed felt unfamiliar and when she opened her eyes, the ceiling was the wrong color.

  Sitting up, she glanced around the room—his room. From outside came the sound of wagon wheels and men’s voices, a muffled explosion from one of the mines, the reverberation of a gunshot, the constant sound of the stamp mill. How did people ever get used to the noise? Maybe it was like living close to the railroad tracks, she mused. After awhile, you didn’t hear the trains anymore.

  A knock at the door brought her to her feet. “Who is it?” she called.

  “Delivery for Miss Montgomery from Madame Sophie’s.”

  “Oh.” Crossing the room, she opened the door.

  Two teenage boys, their arms laden with packages, stood in the hallway. “Evening, ma’am,” said the taller of the two.

  “Hi. Come on in.” She stepped back so they could enter the room. “Just put all that stuff on the bed, I guess.”

  They did as she asked, then stood there, shuffling their feet.

  “Oh, a tip!” Shaye exclaimed. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any money. But I’ll see that you’re taken care of.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  Shaye smiled as she walked them to the door. “Thanks, fellas.”

  When they were gone, she turned around and regarded the pile of packages on the bed, wondering where she was going to put everything. She really needed to get her own room, she thought. She couldn’t stay here, with him. She had to find her way back to her own time…but how? And what was she going to do until then?

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled on her Nikes. Her skirt brushed the floor, so she figured no one would see her shoes anyway. She reached for her gloves, decided against wearing them, and then, with a sigh, she put them on. It was appalling, the hundred and one little things expected of a nineteenth-century lady, like wearing gloves and a hat and a dozen petticoats when it was eighty degrees outside.

  With a huff of resignation, she smoothed her skirt, then slipped her camera into the cute little drawstring bag she had picked out at the dress shop. A reticule, Madame Sophie had called it.

  Feeling as though she were wearing enough clothes for at least three women, she left the hotel, certain that a twenty-first century female had no place in nineteenth-century Bodie. Maybe if she went back to the Queen of Bodie Saloon, she would be transported back to her own time where she belonged.

  She paused at the corner to take a couple of pictures, ignoring the strange looks she received from passersby.

  The Queen was filled almost to overflowing. Someone was pounding out I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen on the piano.

  Taking a deep breath, she put her hands on the swinging doors and entered the room. Too late, she remembered that decent women didn’t frequent saloons.

  She stood there, just inside the doors. Tense. Waiting. But nothing happened.

  And then, as had happened before, the crowd parted and she was staring at Alejandro Valverde. He looked just as he had in her dream; just as he had the first time she had seen him in here.

  As though feeling her gaze, he turned his head, recognition flickering in his eyes, a faint smile touching his lips as he picked up his cards and walked toward her.

  Her heart was racing like a runaway freight train as he closed the distance between them.

  “Shaye, what are you doing here?”

  She shook her head, unable to speak as the truth speared through her. She hadn’t come here hoping to go back to her own time. She had come here to see him, to be with him. Incredible as it seemed, she was falling in love with a ghost.

  “Shaye?”

  “I…I was lonely and…” She shrugged.

  “You don’t belong in here.”

  “I know.”

  His smile caressed her. “But as long as you’re here, come and keep me company.”

  She followed him back to the table. There were three men sitting there, and they all stood up as she approached.

  “Henry, Spooner, Digger, this is Miss Shaye Montgomery. She’s a friend of mine, and she’s a lady, so watch your language while she’s here.”

  The men all bobbed their heads in agreement and remained standing until she had taken the empty
chair next to Alejandro’s.

  “Pot’s light,” Henry said. “You in or out, Rio?”

  Alejandro tossed a double eagle into the center of the table. “In.” He put his hand aside and picked up the deck. “Cards, gents?”

  “One for me,” Henry said.

  Spooner took two.

  “I’ll play these,” Digger said.

  “Dealer takes one.”

  Shaye looked at Alejandro, wondering what kind of hand he had. Catching her gaze, he picked up his cards and showed them to her. A full house. Queens over tens.

  She started to smile, but caught herself just in time.

  “Spooner?”

  “Raise five dollars. Say, where’s Shep tonight?”

  “I’ll see that raise,” ‘Digger said, “and raise you five more.”

  “Henry?”

  “Too rich for my blood.” Henry threw his cards face down on the table. “Shep’s over at the Opera House.”

  Spooner spread his cards on the table, revealing three Jacks, a nine and a deuce.

  Digger blew out a sigh of exasperation. “Beats me,” he muttered sourly.

  Spooner looked at Alejandro. “Well?”

  “Full house,” he declared, and spread his cards on the table.

  “Damn!” Spooner exclaimed. “I swan, if I didn’t know you was honest as the day is long…” He shook his head ruefully.

  Alejandro looked over at Shaye and grinned as he raked in the pot. “Would you like to sit in?”

  “Me?” She couldn’t have been more surprised if he had asked her to stand up on the table and strip.

  “Sure. I’ll stake you.” Alejandro glanced at the other men at the table. “You gents don’t mind if the lady joins us, do you?”

  “Hell…uh, heck, no,” Digger said.

  “All right by me,” Spooner said. “Nice to have something pretty to look at while I’m losin’.”

  Henry laughed. “Be glad to take your money, Miss Montgomery.”

  Alejandro divided the cash stacked in front of him and pushed half of it in front of Shaye. He tossed a double eagle into the pot for himself, and another for her.

  Shaye stared at the money he had given her. Silver dollars. Gold coins. Greenbacks. A rough count put it at close to five hundred dollars. She picked up a ten dollar bill. “This note is legal tender for ten dollars” was written across the top. “Will pay the bearer ten dollars” was printed across the middle. There was the picture of a man in the lower left corner, and what looked like some sort of historical scene in the lower right.

  She felt a surge of excitement as she watched Alejandro deal the cards. She had never been much of a gambler. She enjoyed playing the slot machines in Vegas, but quickly grew bored with it. Blackjack was her favorite game, but it was too expensive for her taste now that it was almost impossible to find a dollar table. Craps looked like fun, but she had never been able to figure it out.

  Removing her gloves, she picked up her cards one by one. Jack of spades, Queen of spades, nine of spades, three of diamonds, eight of spades.

  Alejandro picked up his cards, looked them over, removed two and placed them face down on the table, then picked up the deck again. “How many, Digger?”

  Digger took three, Henry took two, Spooner took one.

  Shaye asked for one. She tossed the three of diamonds on the table and picked up her new card, gasped when she realized what she had. What were the odds, she thought.

  “I’d say she got the card she needed,” Spooner remarked drily.

  Digger laughed.

  Henry nodded.

  Alejandro smiled at her, his eyes twinkling. “I can see we need to work on your poker face,” he drawled.

  Warmth filled her heart and spread to her cheeks. “Maybe I’m bluffing now,” she said tartly.

  Digger tossed a double eagle in the pot, Henry raised him ten dollars, Spooner upped the ante another five dollars. Alejandro saw his raise and raised it five more.

  “So, it’ll cost me forty dollars to stay in?” Shaye asked dubiously.

  Alejandro nodded. “That’s right, darlin’. Unless you want to raise the stakes.”

  She had never bet more than five dollars on the turn of a card in her life. “No.” Taking a deep breath, she added her money to the pot.

  Alejandro grinned at her. “All right, darlin’, let’s see what you’re holding.”

  Her heart was beating wildly as she put her cards on the table, face up, one at a time. Ten of spades, Jack of spades, Queen of spades, nine of spades, eight of spades. A straight flush.

  Alejandro leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. “That’s my girl,” he murmured.

  “Beginner’s luck,” Digger muttered. “Damn, I had a good hand, too. Best one I’ve had all night.” He tossed his cards on the table. “Full house, kings and tens.”

  “Hell…er, heck, Digger, I had four of a kind!”

  “Doesn’t matter what you had,” Alejandro said, chuckling, “it wasn’t good enough. The lady wins. Rake it in, darlin’, it’s all yours.”

  “Well, actually, it’s yours,” Shaye replied.

  “Keep it.”

  “No, I couldn’t.”

  “We’ll settle it later.” He gathered the cards and began to shuffle them.

  Shaye was about to insist she couldn’t keep it when one of the saloon girls sashayed up to the table. She wore a low-cut red dress, a pure, lustful shade of red that was guaranteed to draw every man’s eye, black net stockings, and high-heeled slippers. “Drinks, gents?”

  “’Bout time you got over this way, Ginny girl,” Digger said. “Bring me a whiskey. And make sure it’s the good stuff, and not that rotgut Rojas keeps under the bar.”

  “You buyin’?” Spooner asked.

  “Sure,” Digger said.

  “I’ll have the same then,” Spooner said. “And make it a double.”

  “What’ll you have, Rio honey?”

  “Whiskey’s fine with me. Shaye, do you want anything?”

  She wasn’t much of a drinker. On those occasions when she did drink, she usually ordered a Singapore Sling, or Seven and Seven on the rocks. She was about to order the latter when it occurred to her that the bartender would have no idea what she was talking about, and that Seven-Up hadn’t even been invented yet.

  “Shaye?”

  “Nothing, thank you.”

  “You sure? Digger doesn’t buy often,” Alejandro said with a grin. “Better take advantage of it while you can.”

  “Could I get a glass of wine?”

  “Wine?” Ginny said with a look of disdain. “This is a saloon, honey. We’ve got whiskey, bourbon, and beer.”

  “The lady wants wine, Ginny.” Alejandro handed the woman a couple of greenbacks. “Send someone over to Occidental. Tell Floyd it’s for me.”

  “Alejandro, there’s no need…”

  “Wine you want, wine you get,” he said with a wink. “Right, Ginny?”

  Ginny glared briefly at Shaye, then looked at Alejandro. “Sure, Rio,” she said. “Whatever you want.”

  The saloon girl smiled at Alejandro, a come-hither smile if Shaye had ever seen one. Then, bold as brass, she bent over, giving him a clear view of her ample cleavage.

  “I’ll be waiting for you later,” she whispered, just loud enough for Shaye to hear. Then, smiling smugly, she moved away from the table, her hips swaying seductively.

  Alejandro looked at Shaye. She was watching him, one brow arched in wry amusement.

  Digger and Spooner exchanged knowing grins. Alejandro shuffled the cards again, then slid the deck in front of Digger, who cut the cards.

  Shaye picked up her cards as they were dealt, but for a moment, they meant nothing to her. All she could see was Ginny bending toward Alejandro, offering him a clear view of her cleavage and the delights that were his for the taking. Would he go to her later?

  “Shaye, are you in?”

  Alejandro’s voice drew her back to the game at hand. She glanced quickly
at her cards. A pair of queens, an ace, a four, and a seven. “Yes.” She picked up a double eagle and tossed it into the center of the table.

  “Cards?” Alejandro asked when the pot was right.

  Digger took two, Spooner took one, Digger took one, Shaye asked for three, and Alejandro took two.

  Shaye picked up her new cards, kept her face carefully blank as she added them to her hand: a pair of kings and a trey. Two pair. Not bad.

  “Shaye, it’s up to you.”

  She hesitated a moment, then put five dollars in the pot.

  Digger, Spooner and Henry folded.

  “I’m gonna see your five,” Alejandro said, “and raise you ten more.”

  A thrill of excitement spiraled through her. “I’ll see your ten and raise you ten more.”

  Alejandro regarded her for a long moment, so long she felt her cheeks grow hot.

  “The pot’s yours,” he said at last.

  “Two pair,” she said, and placed her cards on the table, face up.

  “I’ll be… Are you sure you haven’t played before?”

  “What were you holding, Rio?” Digger asked.

  “A full house,” Alejandro replied drily.

  Shaye couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing.

  She lost track of the time. She kept telling herself just one more hand, and then she would go back to the hotel, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. She enjoyed bantering with Digger and Spooner and Henry. Flirting with Alejandro. Several times, the play was just between the two of them. She never beat him again though, and as the night wore on, she began to wonder if he had let her win the first time.

  She loved to watch him shuffle and deal the cards. It was almost as if he caressed each one. More than once she found herself wondering what it would be like to feel those long bronze fingers moving over her skin, delving into her hair. Once, his gaze met hers and the attraction between them sizzled like summer lightning. For a moment, it was as if they were alone in the room, just the two of them. She could almost feel his hands sliding around her waist, pulling her close, feel his breath on her face, his lips moving over the sensitive skin just behind her ear, hear his voice, low and husky with desire as he whispered her name. The heat of his eyes caused a seductive warmth to spread through her, and she wished they were alone, wished she could crawl onto his lap, feel his arms around her, his mouth on hers…