Journey to Yesterday

by Madeline Baker

  A raucous shout from the next table broke the spell between them. Shaye looked away, afraid everything she had been thinking was clearly visible on her face.

  A short time later, Digger decided to call it a night. Spooner and Henry agreed it was time to quit and the three men gathered up their winnings. They bid Alejandro a good night, assured Shaye she was welcome to join them any time, and left the table.

  Alejandro smiled at her. “Tired?”

  She shook her head. “Not really.”

  “Care to take a walk around town before turning in?”

  “Isn’t Ginny expecting you?”

  He laughed softly. “No, darlin’, not tonight or any other night. Now, how about that walk?”

  “Yes, I’d like that.” She looked at the greenbacks and silver in front of her. “Thanks for the loan.”

  “Keep it.”

  “No, I couldn’t.”

  “Have you got any money?”

  “No.”

  He winked at her. “Then keep it.” He held up a hand, staying her protest. “You can pay me back if it’ll make you feel better.”

  “All right. Thank you.” She picked up her gloves and slipped them into her skirt pocket. “You’re very kind.”

  “Kind? Me?” He laughed at that as he began gather up his cash. “My winnings in the left pocket, yours in the right,” he said. He grabbed his hat, settled it on his head, then offered her his hand.

  His fingers were long and warm and strong as they folded over her own.

  Mesmerized by his nearness, by his touch, she was hardly aware of leaving the saloon.

  Outside, the air seemed unusually fresh after the stale, smoky atmosphere of the saloon, giving her a new appreciation for the No Smoking laws in California in the twentieth century. All that smoke, combined with dozens of unwashed bodies and the cheap cloying perfume the saloon girls wore had given her a headache.

  Hand in hand, they walked away from the town, leaving the noise and confusion behind. The sky was clear, peppered with a million twinkling stars. A butter-yellow moon hung low in the sky.

  Shaye felt a shiver of nervous tension, an awareness of the man walking beside her. She hadn’t realized how tall he was, how broad his shoulders were, until now. An aura of self-confidence surrounded him. He was a man who knew who he was, a man comfortable in his own skin.

  They walked until they had left the town far behind, until they were surrounded only by the sheltering darkness, and the vast indigo vault of the sky.

  They walked in silence, the tension thick between them. Nervous, she cast about for something to say. “I don’t recall seeing any opera house in town,” she remarked, remembering that Henry had said Shep was there.

  Alejandro laughed softly. “The Opera House is a dance hall. It backs up to Bonanza Street.”

  Shaye frowned, then nodded. Bonanza Street was where the doves plied their trade.

  “It’s a popular place.”

  “What’s it like inside?”

  Alejandro shrugged. “Just a big building with a pine floor. Men go there and buy tickets to dance.”

  “Oh.”

  They walked on, the silence between them thick enough to cut, and when at last he stopped, she knew he was going to kiss her.

  “Shaye.” She heard the confusion in his voice, knew he was just as disconcerted by the attraction between them as she was. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Dammit, I know that I know you. I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “It’s impossible.”

  “So is what I’m feeling right now,” he muttered, and sweeping her into his arms, he kissed her.

  It sent every rational thought out of her mind, left her drowning in a tidal wave of sensation. His lips were warm and firm and tasted faintly of whiskey. His arms were strong around her, familiar somehow, even though that was impossible. She moved closer, and closer still, until her body was molded to his, until his hard masculine length was pressed intimately against her body from shoulder to thigh, until she couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.

  No one had ever kissed her like this, made her feel like this. The tip of his tongue like a flame dancing over her lips. She opened to him with a sigh, and the flame became an inferno.

  It was a moment that seemed to last an eternity, yet ended all too quickly.

  Breathless, they stared at each other.

  She was twenty-eight years old, she had been married and divorced, yet he made her feel young and giddy, like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

  She looked up at him and whispered, “More,” felt herself falling into the same pool of sensation as his lips claimed hers once again.

  She was standing on the brink of a bottomless pit. One more kiss, one more caress, would send her plummeting into the abyss. Oh, Lord, please don’t let me fall in love.

  Love! She’d been down that road before; she didn’t intend to open herself to that kind of hurt again. With an effort, she put some distance between herself and Alejandro.

  Took a deep breath. He’s not real, she told herself. None of this is real.

  “It’s late,” she said.

  “Yeah, must be all of ten o’clock.”

  “Well, it’s been a long day. I’m tired.”

  He nodded, his gaze intent upon her face, his dark eyes all too wise. “Come on,” he said, taking her by the hand, “I’ll walk you back.”

  Chapter Nine

  Shaye felt as though a vast gulf had opened between them as they walked back to the hotel. Try as she might, she couldn’t think of s single thing to say. She had to find her way back home, she thought desperately, had to get out of here before she did something incredibly stupid.

  When they reached the hotel, Alejandro walked her up the stairs, waited while she unlocked the door.

  “Thank you for dinner,” she said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Good night.”

  “Shaye?”

  She looked up at him, mute, every fiber of her being yearning toward him.

  “What did I do wrong?” he asked quietly.

  “Nothing,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “Everything’s fine. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

  He reached for her, and she backed away.

  “Dammit, Shaye, what’s wrong?”

  She shook her head, wishing she could explain, wishing she could tell him the truth, that she didn’t belong here, that some quirk in time had sent her through time and space and dropped her in an unfamiliar world, but she was certain he would never believe her. Even now, she could hardly believe it herself.

  “All right, darlin’,” he said softly. “Good night.”

  “Good night.” She started to turn away, then paused when he called her name.“Here,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket. “You forgot something.”

  He pulled her share of the winnings from his pocket and placed the money into her cupped hands. Her skin tingled when his fingers brushed against hers.

  “Where will you spend the night?” she asked, and then thought what a silly question that was. There were probably any number of women who would welcome him at any time of the day or night.

  “Don’t worry about me, darlin’. I’ll find a place.”

  His gaze, dark and smoldering, caressed her like summer heat, and then he turned and walked away, leaving her feeling cold and empty and aching deep inside.

  * * * * *

  Shaye rose early after a restless sleep that had been plagued with nightmares she could not now recall. She looked at Alejandro’s side of the bed, and wondered where he had spent the night.

  A short time later, after washing her hands and face in a bowl of cool water and drying with a coarse cotton towel, she dressed and went downstairs in search of breakfast. She was acutely conscious of the layers of ruffled petticoats and the long wine-red skirt swirling around her ankles. Her white blouse…it was called a shi
rtwaist…had long, poofy sleeves that narrowed at the wrists. She had shunned the corset and pantalets in favor of her bra and bikini briefs, which she had rinsed out the night before. The half-boots were far more comfortable than they looked; she would have preferred pantyhose or even a pair of socks to the long cotton stockings. She wore a straw bonnet that tied under her chin. Her reticule, which held her camera and some of the money she had won in the poker game, dangled from her wrist.

  Feeling like she was playing dress-up in her great grandmother’s clothes, she entered the hotel dining room. It was crowded with miners, all eating gustily and talking about the latest strike in one of the mines.

  “Hit a rich vein this time!”

  “Ore’s top grade, too!”

  “I knew I should have bought some stock in that damn mine…”

  Shaye hurried across the room toward an empty table and sat down. Two waitresses threaded their way around the tables, taking orders, filling coffee cups.

  She sat there a good fifteen minutes before a short, plump waitress wearing a harried expression stopped by her table. “What’ll you have, honey?”

  “What’s good?”

  The woman brushed a lock of limp brown hair from her forehead. “Honey, if you’re hungry enough, it’s all good.”

  “A stack of hot cakes, and a cup of coffee.”

  With a nod, the waitress wrote it down, then moved to the next table.

  Shaye removed her gloves and slipped them into her skirt pocket. Looking out the window, she saw the ever-present flood of miners and wagons that clogged the boardwalks and the streets. The shouts of teamsters, the rumble of wagon wheels, the distant sound of blasting from one of the mines, the whinny of a horse, the chiming of a clock, the sound of a blacksmith’s hammer, all combined to fill the air with discordant music. Added to this was the constant noise of the Standard stamp mill, which ran twenty-four hours a day, six days a week. A thick haze of dust hung over the town, churned up by wagon wheels and the hooves of horses and mules.

  She shook her head. She had only been here two days and she was already growing accustomed to the noise and the dust. Outhouses, however, were something she would never get used to. If she ever went time traveling again, she was going to be sure to pack some toilet paper!

  She smiled as the waitress returned with her breakfast.

  The pancakes were some of the best Shaye had ever eaten. The coffee was the strongest she had ever tasted. Even adding a generous amount of milk and sugar didn’t help much.

  She was on her second cup of coffee when she felt a tingle along her spine. Glancing toward the entrance, she saw Alejandro striding toward her, felt her whole body react to the sight of him. She licked her lips, remembering the way he had kissed her the night before and her response to it.

  He winked at her as he slid into the chair across from hers. “I thought I might find you here.”

  “Did you?”

  The waitress appeared at their table, her brown eyes shining as she smiled at Alejandro. “Morning, Rio,” she said, handing him a cup of coffee. “The usual?”

  He nodded. “Gracias, Addy Mae.”

  Cheeks flushed, Addy Mae practically floated away from the table. It was obvious the girl, who didn’t look like she was more than seventeen or eighteen, had a crush on him.

  “Why were you looking for me?” Shaye asked. Seeing the look in his eyes, she felt her own cheeks grow warm with the knowledge that he, too, was remembering the kisses they had shared the night before.

  “I wanted to let you know I took another room at the hotel.”

  “Oh, good.” It was for the best, of course, but she couldn’t help feeling bereft somehow, and ridiculously relieved that he hadn’t spent the night with someone else. “I’d hate to think of you sleeping in the street.”

  He grinned at her, and she knew they were both thinking that he would never have any trouble finding a bed to sleep in, or a woman to share it with.

  “That wasn’t the only reason I wanted to see you,” he said.

  “Oh? Is something wrong?”

  “No. I was hoping to spend the day with you.”

  Her heartbeat speeded up just a little. “Were you?”

  “If you don’t mind, darlin’.”

  Mind? Was he crazy? “I’d like that.”

  “I was hopin’ you would,” he drawled softly.

  Oh, Lord, she was going to fall and fall hard, she thought frantically. Just the sound of his voice made her heart race like chain lightning across dry grass. She had never fallen head over heels in love. It had come slowly with Josh, and even then, it had never been wild and spontaneous, it had just happened. Maybe she had never really loved Josh at all. Heaven knew she had never felt this way about him. His voice had never made her heart pound. Of course, it had been just an ordinary voice, not low and sexy like Alejandro’s. Josh’s kisses had never spread through her like wildfire. They had given her pleasure, aroused her, but never made her feel like she was drowning in honey.

  Oh, Lord, this couldn’t be happening.

  He was watching her, one brow arched, a faint smile on his handsome face, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  “What…” Her voice came out in a high-pitched squeak. “What did you want to do?”

  “Anything you like.”

  Visions of cool sheets and hot kisses flooded her mind. She could feel herself blushing furiously.

  “Well, I’ve never seen a gold mine,” she said. She had never wanted to, either, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

  His gaze trapped hers. “Is that what you want to see, darlin’?”

  Addy Mae arrived with his breakfast then, sparing Shaye the necessity of answering. “Anything else I can get for you, Rio?”

  He smiled up at her. “No, Addy, this looks fine.”

  Shaye stared at the plate the waitress put in front of him. It was piled high with pancakes, eggs, sausage, and fried potatoes. It was a wonder he didn’t weigh three hundred pounds.

  “Could I get another cup of coffee?” Shaye asked.

  “Coming right up,” Addy Mae replied.

  The waitress returned in a few minutes. “Everything all right, Rio?” she asked as she filled Shaye’s cup.

  “As always,” he replied.

  Shaye sipped her coffee while he ate, only vaguely aware of the other people in the room. All she could see was Alejandro. His long black hair, the bronze of his skin, the way his fingers curled around his cup, his deep brown eyes, the way his gaze moved over the room. He seemed relaxed, yet she had the feeling he was aware of everyone in the place.

  He finished his coffee and put the cup on the table. “Ready?”

  She nodded, slipping on her gloves while he dropped a couple of greenbacks on the table. He was, she thought, a generous tipper.

  Rising, he pulled out her chair, then took her hand. Gallant, she thought, and tried to remember the last time a man had done the little things once so common in everyday society. How times have changed, she mused. Men rarely held a door for a woman anymore, or helped her on with her coat. Women in her time had to pump their own gas and pretty much look out for themselves. And while she was perfectly capable of opening a door and filling her own gas tank, it was nice to be treated like a lady for a change.

  Alejandro held the door for her. Outside, he took her arm, and they walked down the boardwalk. “So, you want to see a gold mine, do you?”

  “Not really.”

  “Well, there’s not much to do in Bodie this time of day,” he remarked with a grin.

  “It’s a little too early for poker, and I’m not much for drinking before noon. I guess that leaves digging for gold.”

  “You’re kidding, aren’t you? I’m hardly dressed to go tromping around in a mine.”

  He laughed softly. “Have you ever been in a gold mine?”

  “No.”

  “Come along, then,” he said, and led her across the street and up the side of a hill.

&
nbsp; “Where are we going?”

  “To the Robison mine.”

  “Will they let us go in?”

  “Sure, darlin’. The foreman’s a friend of mine.”

  Darlin’. Never in her life had she heard anyone caress that endearment the way he did. “Must be a female,” Shaye muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She lifted her long skirts to keep them out of the dirt, and to keep from tripping over the hem. It had been a lot easier to climb the hill in her shorts and tennis shoes.

  It was a bleak land, she mused as they neared the mine. There were no green fields, no trees, no birds. Just barren hills that housed mines with fanciful names: the Oro, the Champion, the Noonday, the Red Cloud. And acres and acres of sagebrush. Wood was freighted in, or brought in by burro from the Mono Mill. She seemed to remember reading in one of the books that Bodie went through one hundred thousand cords of wood a year.

  She stopped several times on the way up the hill to take pictures of the mine and the countryside, wondering, as she did so, if she would ever get back to her own time to get them developed, and if there would be anything on the film when she did. She took pictures of Alejandro, too, amused by the expression on his face.

  “There was no flash this time,” he remarked.

  “I don’t need a flash in the day time,” she explained. “Would you want to take one?”

  “Sure.”

  “What do you want to take a picture of?”

  “You, of course.”

  She showed him how the camera worked, smiled as he took the picture. “Come here,” she said, “we’ll take one of us together.”

  “How can you do that?”

  “I’ll show you. Stand here.” She checked the shot in the view finder, set the timer, put the camera on a post, then went to stand beside Alejandro. A moment later, the camera took the picture.

  “Amazing,” Alejandro muttered.

  “Isn’t it though?”

  She knew a moment of hesitation when they reached the entrance and she looked down into what seemed to be a bottomless hole in the ground. Thoughts of cave-ins flashed across her mind.