Ladies Prefer Rogues: Four Novellas of Time-Travel Passion

by Janet Chapman

  He couldn’t help but grin, even if disappointment was stabbing at him. He’d really hoped she’d take his offer to stay with him. “You’re an amazingly resilient woman, Mags. And you’re going to find a way to get through this. But whether you like it or not, for right now, you need to accept help.”

  In the couple of days she’d been here, he’d witnessed her soaking up everything around her, including some of the lingo. She was a little sponge and it was quite a sight, not to mention tiring, to be around her as she questioned everything and tried to reconcile it with all she’d known.

  Dr. Pendergrass, their local shrink, had come to see her the night before and had left, shaking his head. His analysis was that she truly believed everything she was saying, that she gave details of her life in Philly that even the most astute historian wouldn’t know. The doc was as mystified as everyone else who’d come in contact with her. And just as taken with her. Which was sort of irritating.

  He’d been thinking a lot the last couple of nights about just what he was feeling for her. And why. It wasn’t just her beauty, although he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t consider that a huge plus. It was more like she was a puzzle. And every piece of her attracted him. Her unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Her brutal honesty. And if what she was telling him was the truth, her courage in traveling to the “territories” to forge a new life for herself. That had to be one bold move for a woman in the mid-nineteenth century.

  And now her vulnerability. She was alone, penniless, in a strange new world. She needed him, whether she liked it or not. And he needed her. Whether he liked it or not. Or understood it.

  “I’m guessing that bedding down at the Rooster wouldn’t be acceptable, either,” Ty said.

  “Yes. Very kind of her to offer,” Maggie said, “But I think not.”

  “Fannie’s been here to see you?”

  “Oh, yes. She’s . . . quite unique. But very nice. And she was so concerned that someone had hurt me on her property.”

  “Which might still be your property, too. We’ll talk to Neil Douglas. He’s the property lawyer in town.”

  “There’s no way I’m taking the Rooster from her, Ty. What happened was not her fault. And obviously happened a year or two before she was born.” She smiled behind her sniffles. “Sorry, that wasn’t kind. She’s adorable.”

  Ty felt himself falling even more. “True, but I still think we need to straighten matters out about that.”

  “Want to hear something funny?” she asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “Except for the blonde hair, she looked almost exactly like Misty.”

  “Who’s Misty?”

  “The woman who was . . . managing the Rooster when I first arrived. She was also tiny, up in her years, and wore lots of that easy, breezy beautiful makeup stuff.”

  “Too much TV, Maggie.”

  “I don’t think so. It’s all so fascinating. Do you know there’s this tiny little green lizard animal who talks and sells insurance?”

  “Maggie . . .”

  “And I discovered a news channel. And you’re right, it’s the year of our Lord, 2010.”

  “You mean you didn’t believe me?”

  “Let’s just say I like independent verification.”

  Ty was a little insulted but shrugged it off. After all, if he’d been knocked in the head and then told that it was the year 1850, he’d want more than one person saying so.

  He also knew she was stalling, scared to death, probably. But they needed to decide on her next move. “If you refuse to stay with me,” he said, “you’re refusing, right?”

  “With some regret, because I love dogs, yes.”

  “Fine,” he said, and sounded disappointed even to himself. “Then we have a couple of nice hotels in town, but they’re all casinos, and I’m not sure you’re ready for that yet.”

  “I’ve seen betting houses before.”

  “Not like these, you haven’t, darlin’. Trust me, you’re not ready.”

  She took the tissue from his hand and wrung it, staring down at her hands. “I do.”

  “You do what? Feel you’re ready?”

  “No, not that. I’m probably barmy, but I do. Trust you.”

  Ty cleared his throat to get the choky feeling out of it. “I’m glad.”

  “Don’t go thinking it’s because of your charm or anything,” she added.

  “Oh, I’d never presume such a thing, ma’am.”

  “And don’t call me ma’am,” she snapped. “I’m not that old.”

  “Well, if we did the math—”

  “No math!”

  “Then if I can’t call you ma’am, I’m heading right back to darlin’.”

  “Seems I couldn’t stop you if I tried.”

  “You have tried. Darlin’ is a term of endearment.”

  She huffed. “I said I trust you, not that I find you endearing.”

  He sure preferred the spark of annoyance in those big brown eyes over fear. “I’m pretty sure most women find me endearing.”

  “As if.”

  He stared at her for a couple of seconds before bursting out laughing. “Where’d you learn that one?”

  “Last night. A moovee channel. It was actually quite funny.”

  “You are amazing, Ms. Prescott.”

  She pointed at him. “I now know what Mizz means, too! It denotes a woman who might or might not be married and doesn’t consider her marital status anyone’s business. Correct?”

  “Correct. I still prefer darlin’.”

  “I’m sort of getting used to it.”

  And he was getting used to her. Quirky, weird, whatever. She was so cute and wacky and beautiful. “Anyway, back to the trust thing. You’re sure? You realize I’m not the bad guy?” He so did not want to be the bad guy in her mind.

  She waved her hands in the air. “It’s just that everyone I’ve met here seems to think you’re trustworthy, so I’m taking their word for it.”

  “But not mine?”

  “You . . . look too much like the bad guy. But I’m going to be down with that. He wasn’t you.”

  She apparently had been watching MTV, too. “I’m so glad you’re down with that. Because it sure as hell wasn’t me.” He stood up trying to think. “And I’m taking care of you, sweetheart.”

  “Why can’t you just call me Maggie? Do you hate my name? Or are you just trying to insult me?”

  Ty plopped his hands on his hips. “I don’t know. Maybe because Maggie’s so personal. It’s your name.”

  “More personal than darlin’ or sweetheart?”

  “Those are the overall kind. Those are the ‘I think you’re really pretty’ kind.”

  “Oh, really? Ya think?”

  Ty reached over and grabbed the remote control, clicking the power button. “You are watching way too much TV, Maggie.”

  “There you go. You managed to call me by my name. Was that so hard? Oprah says—”

  “Maggie . . .” he growled.

  “I don’t want to go, Ty,” she said softly. “Where am I going to go?”

  Ty didn’t know. He had a couple of ex-girlfriends who might take her in, but he was a little afraid of what they’d tell her. Not that he’d been a bad boyfriend, just not real attentive. He had a tendency to forget about them for days or weeks at a time as other things occupied his mind. No, he didn’t think he’d want to let her get an earful from any of them.

  And then it struck him. He snapped his fingers. “Of course, I have just the place.”

  “Which is?”

  “My mother’s house.”

  “Your mother lives here? In Little Fork? Of course. She cuts your hair.”

  Man, this woman had amazing recall. “Sure does. Well, she lives right outside of town.”

  Maggie shook her head. “I couldn’t impose.”

  “Impose? Believe me, she’d be thrilled. She loves having company.”

  “But . . . I need to repay her somehow. I can’t just let her care for me w
ithout some recompense.”

  “Believe me, she’ll find a way for you to pay for your keep. How would you like to learn how to use a computer?”

  “Computers I already know,” she said, with a blasé wave of her hand. “They use them all over here. But the Inter . . . net? I hear that all the time, but don’t know what it means exactly.”

  “Live with my mom, you’ll learn it for sure. That’s how she’s shoring up her income.”

  Maggie’s eyes lit up like she’d just been handed a million-dollar winning lottery ticket. “I believe I’ll enjoy your mother very much. Does she have a TV?”

  Four

  “I can’t do this!” Maggie yelled.

  “You can,” she heard Ty bark back at her. “Maggie, it was the best I could do on the spur of the moment. Jackie was the only gi . . . friend who seemed about your size.”

  Maggie took a deep breath. She could do this. After all, the women she’d seen on that TV wore much less than this. But these jeans things? This top wasn’t so bad. It was a sweater-type thing, and more comfortable than any she’d ever known, but it had a neckline that allowed much of her chest to be exposed. “My grandmother would have a cow!” she yelled.

  “I’m betting your grandmother did have cows. And chickens. And sheep.”

  “And goats. Like that commercial where the guy marries one. You people are weird. My mam had goats but never presided over a wedding with one. Oh, wait, there was that time—”

  “Too much information!” Ty yelled. Then, “Maggie, we need you to come out already. Unless you want to wear what you came in with.”

  “As if!”

  “I’m suing the producers of Clueless,” she heard Ty say. “Get out here!”

  Maggie took a deep breath and then threw aside the curtain. “The first person to make a comment gets your ass blued.”

  No one made a comment. Not one single person. Standing outside her hospital room were Ty, Jinx, and Doctor Sanchez. They all stared at her like she was a ghost or something.

  “Well, happy now?” she asked.

  “Holy shit,” all three said in unison.

  Yes indeed, Ty was happy. Miss Margaret Prescott was one beautiful one-hundred-and-eighty-two-year-old woman. And she wore a pair of jeans as if she were modeling for them. Her legs were longer than he’d have guessed, her hips slim, waist even slimmer. Ty didn’t dare stare at her chest, but he got a good enough eyeful as his gaze moved quickly up to her flushed face to know she should be right proud of her breasts, too.

  “Well?” she said.

  “You look”—Jinx hesitated—“very nice, Maggie.”

  Ty cleared his throat. “Yes . . . nice.”

  Sonia backhanded both of them in the stomach, then stepped forward. “What the Neanderthals are trying to say is you look fabulous. How do you feel?”

  “Very strange. In my day women didn’t wear breeches.”

  “Are you uncomfortable?”

  “No. But why are they staring at me?”

  “Because they’re men. And because the last time they saw you dressed, you were looking a little Laura Ingalls-ish.”

  Maggie made a mental note to write down Laura Ingalls and research what that meant. “Is everyone going to stare at me like this . . . outside?”

  Sonia winked. “Well, I’m pretty certain you’ll have people staring at you, Maggie, but not because you’re out of place.”

  “Then . . . why? My head is no longer bandaged.”

  “Because,” Sonia said, handing Maggie over to Ty, “this is a small town. And you’re a new face in town. So people are going to wonder who you are.”

  “Oh, no!” Maggie looked up at Ty imploringly. “We mustn’t tell them. They’ll think I’m straight out of the lunar bin.”

  “Loony bin,” Ty said, who appeared to have finally regained his vocal faculties. “And no they won’t. You’re Maggie Prescott, formerly from Philadelphia, and you’ve come to visit an old friend of your mother. Having taken to the place, you’ve decided to stay. Well, stay until you decide you want to move on, at any rate. I’m assuming you’ll want to . . . return home?”

  She laughed. “Return to what?”

  “Philadelphia?”

  “Do I want to return to Philadelphia? I’m sure it isn’t anything like I’ve known.”

  “Ben Franklin still hangs out around just about every corner in Center City,” Jinx said.

  “He’s an imposter.”

  “Of course he is, darlin’. But he’s the most popular man in town. Except, maybe, the next coach who brings home the Lombardi Trophy,” Jinx said.

  “The . . . what?”

  “Look it up on Wikipedia,” Ty said.

  He put an arm around her shoulders, and even though she should have, she didn’t shrug him off. It felt too safe, secure.

  He pulled her closer to his warm, wonderful-smelling body. “We’ll figure out what you want to do in time, sweet. Right now, let’s get you home.”

  “I’ve never felt so . . . so . . . exhilarated!” Maggie told Ty, as they whipped down Main Street in his automobile. “There’s just . . . so much to see! I mean, I’ve seen places like this on the TV, but in person they’re just . . . amazing.”

  “Want me to slow down?” he asked, glancing over at her with one of his half grins.

  Maggie stared at him for a second, everything else around her not nearly so interesting. How could she ever have mistaken him for the filthy brute who’d dragged her from the main hall of the Rooster? Even his hands on the round steering thing seemed gentle.

  “No,” she said, wrenching her gaze from him back to the vibrancy of this new world. “We’ll return later and walk the streets, like those people are doing.”

  “We will, will we?” he asked.

  “Unless you don’t want to. I could ask Jinx to escort me.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not? It’s apparent that there’s no crime in coloreds and whites spending time together any longer.”

  “The color of his skin has nothing to do with it,” Ty said, stopping when one of those hanging lights turned red. “And coloreds is not a politically correct term any longer, Mags. You need to figure that one out.”

  “Yes, you’re right. I must learn how to describe people differently.”

  “Actually, describing people by their race or color just doesn’t do anything good, Maggie. People are people.”

  “Oh, my mother would have loved you, Sheriff Coltraine.”

  The light turned and he shifted into gear. “I wish I’d met your mother, too,” he said, glancing into the mirror stuck to the glass window in front of them. “I’m sure I’d have loved her.”

  “Not many people loved her. She drove most crazy.”

  “Ah, so you take after her.”

  She scowled at him, even though he was looking everywhere but at her, so missed her displeasure. “And do you take after your great-great-great-grandfather?”

  Instead of sticking it to him, she seemed to have amused him instead. Which was irritating, because she was definitely going for the punch in the stomach.

  “Sure as hell hope not, Mags. I admire your mother. Don’t have a speck of admiration for my male ancestors.”

  “How do you know you’d like my mother?”

  “She created you, didn’t she? Sounds to me like she was working for a better future for women and the world in general. My male ancestors would have hated her, because they wanted to keep everyone but themselves and their friends down.”

  Maggie felt that wonderful warm, melting sensation flow down her body. “So then, why should I not invite Jinx to stroll down the streets of Little Fork? Maybe have lunch in Tina’s Diner back there?”

  A muscle jumped in his jaw. “Because he’s my best friend, and I would really hate to have to whoop him to a pulp.”

  Maggie smiled, swinging her head the other way so he wouldn’t see it. She wasn’t exactly clear on the ways of men, but she was fairly certain that st
atement meant that he felt possessive of her. Which made her feel a little giddy. As they’d made their way out of the hospital, she’d seen many of the female nurses look at him as if they’d like to eat Ty up. A jealous streak unlike anything she’d ever known had welled up in her. But it was overcome by her happiness that he’d been holding on to her possessively. So many emotions. So many new and exciting sights. So many adventures yet to come. Or so she wished. Wished profusely.

  They turned onto a road called This Way and within minutes had left the town behind and were heading into the beauty of the country. There were mountains all around them, some still snowcapped. And the plant life all around them was so exotically sparse compared to the lush greenery of Philadelphia. Which made it so different and lovely.

  “This is beautiful country.”

  “It is,” Ty agreed. “So is Pennsylvania. Just in a different way. We’re mostly considered desert here.”

  “How do you know what Pennsylvania looks like?”

  “I’ve been there before,” he said, then pulled up a hidey hole in between their seats and plucked out a pair of dark glasses, shoving them over his eyes. “I took several training seminars on CSI at Penn State.”

  Maggie took out one of those little pads Jinx gave her and added CSI and Penn State to her growing list of things to check out on the Internet. Louise had told her all about how to find out any information you wanted on the superhighway. She wasn’t certain what all of those things were, but she’d be damned if she didn’t learn them. “Did you fly to Pennsylvania on one of those airplane things?” she asked.

  “I did.”

  “Like a bird in the sky.”

  “No, like a big machine in the sky. But it has wings. They just don’t flap like a bird’s wings do.” He glanced over at her, the small smile still in place, but his eyes were completely covered by the glasses. “The Wright brothers. Kitty Hawk. Write those down.”

  She did. “Would it be okay if I go strolling or taking lunch with Sonia?” she blurted out.

  He chuckled. “Sure.”

  “But not Jinx.”