by Donna Steele
“Change the subject, wench.”
“Okay, I made progress with the nurses today. I complimented Gail on her assistance in front of my colleagues. She was a little embarrassed, but the other doctors noticed and agreed.”
“We changed things, not people,” Dusty reminded her.
“True. The people with real problems, psychosis and schizophrenia were helped. People like Roger slid under the radar. Maybe not as much as in the past, because there is more help, but people are still people.”
Dusty blew out a sigh. “That wasn’t what we worked on.”
“We didn’t work on anything close. You worked on energy, I just tried to empower the women.”
“And you did. Remember that. Your nurses might not be put down because they’re women, but because they’re in a lower position.”
She seemed to consider it for a moment, then nodded. “I have to finish an article I was reading.” She yawned. “Mind if I read in bed?”
“Go on, I’ll join you in a minute.”
While finishing in the kitchen, Dusty remembered the text ping and collected his phone to read it. He blinked at the message.
Angie was coming back to town and couldn’t wait to see him again.
Who the hell is Angie?
It made no sense. He’d had no relationships prior to Dee that he could recall, but like this situation with Stepdaddy Roger, there were a lot of things he wouldn’t know about, since they hadn’t happened to him.
Dee was in bed with her tablet when he joined her with his own reading material. They had fallen into the habit of readying for bed, then studying there together several times a week. It didn’t replace those evenings in Mrs. Tillman’s room, but served as a reminder. Dee read her medical journals, constantly investigating new techniques undreamt of before their trip back in time. He did the same with his engineering publications, noting many innovations and improvements in green energy.
More often than not they turned to one another to share the information, and revel in the knowledge their friends had pulled off such changes.
Dusty watched Dee’s reader slip from her fingers and her head come to rest on his shoulder. These little naps were normal, delighting him, though he kept it to himself. She’d acted embarrassed the first couple of times. He found them adorable.
When Dee relaxed now it was complete, and he envied her a little. It was as if the baby had taken over and determined she should rest.
Nearly overcome by emotions still new to him, Dusty watched over his wife, even more beautiful than the first time he’d seen her. Of course, he’d spotted her in the bar right away since they’d been the only two customers in the place that night.
He would have noticed her in any crowd.
Because he’d been in a foul mood, he might not have approached her, which would have been a tragedy. Back then he’d been more inclined toward a fast hook-up. Something had compelled him, not only to a new location but to move toward her once he saw her. The vibration, or buzz as she called it, had tugged at him and he’d reacted like iron to a magnet.
Buying her dinner was one thing. Going home with her had really surprised him, not to mention staying the night. They hadn’t wanted to leave each other’s side.
Dee had extended the date by offering their fateful ride to the airport where they had crashed into another time . . .
Now his wife, she lay beside him, relaxed and secure, with their child growing inside her. When they talked about the changes they had made, did she realize he was one of the biggest changes?
He continued reading until she roused and looked up at him with a sheepish look. “Don’t apologize.” Dusty spoke before she could.
She chuckled, moving closer, and his arm went around her.
“Before you go to sleep for real, I have some questions.” Dusty squeezed her gently.
“Okay.”
“Who is the last guy you dated before me?”
“Harry Grogan,” she replied promptly. “A pharmaceutical rep I met at the hospital.”
“When?”
She smiled. “Our last date was the weekend before you crashed into my life. I haven’t seen him around since we got back.”
“Did you sleep with him?”
“No! We’d only gone out four times.”
“You slept with me on the first date,” Dusty pointed out.
“We hooked up when you picked me up in a bar. There was no dating involved.”
“I bought dinner.”
She rolled her eyes. “Right, I’ll remember that. What was the other question?”
“You referred to our future offspring as she. Do you know something I don’t?”
“Oh, sorry. No, it’s still too early to tell, even with this technology. I’ve just always thought girl.”
“To be honest, me too. I visualize a beautiful little girl with your red hair.” Dee’s smile brightened his world.
“It would be nice if she had your eyes and eyelashes.”
“You like them, do you?” He nibbled at her ear as his hand cupped her sensitive breast.
“Trying to hook up again?”
“You better believe it.” He tugged her PJ pants down as she tangled her hands in his hair.
Then he proceeded to push her past the bounds of sanity with his tongue—twice—before joining her for the third bout.
Completely sated, he tucked her against him. She fit in his arms as though she’d always been there, created for the space.
“I love you,” he murmured before they both sank into a deep sleep.
~ ~ ~
The next day, Leonard tapped on the open door to Dusty’s office. “Got a minute?”
“Sure.” Dusty hit save and swiveled around, taking in the man’s frazzled look. “Everything okay?”
Slightly taller than Dusty, Leonard could stand to lose about twenty pounds though he looked professional in his suits. Today the suit coat was missing and he’d rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. A pair of glasses perched on the top of his head, framing his receding hairline.
“That answer is why I’m here.” Leonard eased the door closed and took a seat across from Dusty. “I need to know what’s going on with you.”
“Excuse me?”
Leonard shook his head. “See? You are a completely different man than a few weeks ago. An almost unidentifiable man. I know my next words are going to sound offensive and I apologize in advance, but no woman is that good.”
Dusty’s brows rose but he kept his mouth shut, waiting.
“The day before we left for Denver you were . . . normal. For you, anyway. Angry, resentful I was wasting your time. I admit I was really dreading the trip. Then you show up at the jetport with a woman and you’re mellow as shit. I’ve met Dee, she’s wonderful. Hell, too good for you. But I repeat, no woman is that good. I’ve got people here who want me to give you a fuckin’ drug test.”
Had he ever seen Leonard look so uncomfortable? It kind of reminded Dusty a little of Reverend Marcus Grant’s first meeting with him in Braddock’s Crossing. Marcus had just helped in the saving of Jedidiah Lawson’s leg and been forced to observe Dee’s real and impressive medical qualifications—
Leonard interrupted his trip down memory lane. “Then we get on the plane and you pull out your work and share it with me. Hell, you made me think of Mr. Bentley. He was my sixth-grade teacher, my all-time favorite. The guy got me excited about learning. Hadn’t thought of him in decades, but the same energy was there.”
He studied his abandoned coffee for a few seconds, then met Dusty’s eyes squarely. “What happened to you? And can I recreate it for a few others in the company?”
Dusty chuckled. “A couple of things. Yes, Dee is too good for me. She doesn’t agree and
now that we’re married—”
“Married!” Good thing Leonard hadn’t taken a sip of the coffee because he’d have choked on it. “When did that happen?”
Dusty displayed his left hand. “Last weekend.”
“Did you know her before I saw the two of you at the jetport?”
“I met her the night before.”
“Holy . . . Does she have a sister?”
Dusty laughed out loud. Seeing how Leonard reacted to his mirth made him wonder if he’d ever laughed at the office before. “No, she’s definitely unique.”
Leonard slumped back in the chair. “So it’s all her, this change in you.”
“She’s the biggest part. I got a bit of insight being around her.”
“In one night?”
“When it’s right, it’s right.”
“Bullshit. I might be stepping out of line and HR will kill me, but the difference is you’re happy.”
Dusty blinked. “Yes, I am. I’ve learned a lot about myself as well with her at my side. Look, so HR won’t be on your case, would you like to grab a beer after work sometime?”
Leonard’s mouth dropped open for a second before he caught it. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Watching the man leave, Dusty realized his temper hadn’t been triggered. There would have been a time, a few weeks or maybe months ago depending on the perspective, when he would have taken Leonard out. He’d been perpetually angry and used his anger to take control at every opportunity.
Now more in charge than ever, when he and Leonard had walked into the conference room in Denver following the detour to 1891, Dusty’d been calm and everyone had listened. And the work finished in half the time. It was true here as well. Meetings were no longer so contentious and more got done. People were respecting him, listening and deferring to him.
Who knew teaching six-year-olds to read would have taught me so much?
Chapter 15
Braddock’s Crossing, 1891
“Morning, Miz Masters,” Elizabeth said, smiling as she removed her coat. The mornings were downright cold these days. She shivered at the memory of the rescue of little Daniel Sutton after his fall into the icy pond. It was hard to believe neither he nor Dusty had developed pneumonia from the incident.
In any case, Dee would have handled it.
Artificial respiration. An excellent name for the technique she’d been taught that day. Elizabeth had never even thought of such a thing, but Dee had shown her the skill, and the boy was fine due to the teamwork everyone had displayed during the emergency.
“Is Dee in the office?” she asked Mrs. Masters.
“Neither of the Stevens has come down yet this morning.”
“Not down? Dusty will be late for school. That’s not like them.”
“I was considering going up to knock.”
“Yes, I think we should.” Elizabeth left her bundle of starched nurses’ aprons on the hall table and started up the stairs, Mrs. Masters at her heels.
The knock brought no response, so Elizabeth tapped louder. Still no response. The two women exchanged a concerned glance as Elizabeth reached for the doorknob. Mrs. Masters’ eyebrow went up, but she made no move to stop her.
The bed was empty and so was the dressing room. Nothing appeared to be missing. Dee’s clothing, her ‘jeans’ and that green garment she called a ‘t-shirt,’ lay folded on a shelf in the wardrobe. Dusty’s suitcase stood in the corner of the dressing room. A quick inventory showed nothing missing.
“What’s going on? They can’t be running around in their nightclothes.”
“They don’t wear nightclothes,” Mrs. Masters said, then blinked as if realizing her comment.
Elizabeth felt her face grow hot, but she made no response. She’d consider how the woman knew that little tidbit later. “They have to be here somewhere.”
A quick tour of the house proved those words false. Elizabeth took a moment to run out to check in the carriage house. The damaged Prius sat there as it had since being towed in.
“Something’s happened to them,” Elizabeth fretted. “They wouldn’t have just walked away.”
A tap at the back door drew their attention and Elizabeth reached it first, flinging it open and startling Sam Dula. “Mister Dula, please come in.” Elizabeth stepped back to allow him entry. Sam had been Dee’s first black patient when his hand had been badly injured while sharpening his plow blade. He still insisted on coming in the back door despite Dee’s admonitions to use the front.
“Is somethin’ wrong? I can come back—”
“Is your son with you?”
“Yes, he drove me in.”
“I need a favor before I check on your hand.”
“Anythin’, Miz Gray.”
“Could he run over to the parsonage and get Reverend Grant? We need him here.”
“He’ll go right now.”
~ ~ ~
Rewrapping Sam’s hand after her examination, Elizabeth commented, “This is healing very well. You’ll be able to start on those exercises Doc Stevens talked to you about next week.”
“I still can’t believe I have a hand.” Sam shook his head. “Doc Stevens is a wonder. Where is she this mornin’?”
“Oh, she had to run out. I’m sure she’ll return soon. I knew you needed to get back home.”
“That’s true. We’ve had a good harvest this year and while I’ve been slowed down, we still got it in on time. You be sure to tell the doc I said hello.”
“I certainly will and thank your son again for helping us out.”
“No trouble a’tall. You have a nice day, Miz Gray.”
Elizabeth walked him out the front door and waved her thanks to his son. Reverend Grant—Marcus as she thought of him now—was waiting in the foyer.
“Miz Masters told me what’s going on,” he said as soon as the door closed behind Sam. “Thank you for sending for me.”
“I’m worried. This isn’t like either of them.” Her concern allowed her the freedom to take his hand.
“I agree.” He squeezed her fingers in reassurance and they both realized such familiarity at the same time. Elizabeth did not withdraw from his clasp.
“Have you looked for a note?” Marcus hadn’t moved away either.
“I haven’t had time to check her desk. We should do that now.”
Mrs. Masters joined them in the foyer. “Is Mister Dula gone?”
“Yes, he just left. Did anyone else come by?”
Mrs. Masters shook her head. Elizabeth could see the concern on her face, which eased her own fear a little. Mrs. Masters had been against Dee from the very first moment she’d laid eyes on her in those denim trousers. Jeans. Now she looked ready to wring her hands in worry over the woman.
It was Elizabeth who found the letters in the desk drawer. None appeared to be complete, since no signature ended them. All were worded as a sort of jotting down of thoughts as they came to mind.
The thickest was for Elizabeth, listing treatments, exercises, and medicines. Notes for Connie, Millie, Viola, and Mrs. Masters were also in the drawer. They had been folded once, not placed in envelopes, as if ready to be snatched back up as another idea occurred.
Elizabeth glanced at the top of her personal note. “This is dated the day Mayor Pickerson stopped by with the application from Doctor Morgan. Dee knew she’d be leaving when he arrived. She didn’t want to forget to tell us things.” Her eyes started to water. “Marcus?”
She hadn’t called him by his given name aloud before, but the word slipped out easily. He took the single step to bring him to her side, his arm curving around her shoulders. She turned into him, burying her face in his chest.
“Anything, Miz Grey?” Cook stood in the office doorway with Mrs. Masters.
/> Elizabeth pulled away, her drenched eyes meeting those of the worried women. “We can’t find them.”
“I’ll need to run over to the boardinghouse and let Connie know Mister Stevens won’t be at school,” Mrs. Masters confirmed. “She should be able to take back over, according to . . .” She stumbled over the title, then continued firmly, “Doctor Stevens. Her surgery was weeks ago. She looked fine when she moved back to Miz Haas’ place.” She turned to Cook. “Do you have Silas’ lunch?”
Nodding, Cook headed to the kitchen to retrieve the sack, concern plain on her face.
~ ~ ~
“Go ahead and read your letter, Elizabeth.” Marcus encouraged her gently. “Maybe she said something we can check.”
Sighing, Elizabeth took the office chair, skimming the letter quickly. Marcus didn’t leave, standing by the chair with his hand lightly resting on her shoulder, watching her expression as she read.
Her quick indrawn breath and reddened cheeks caused Marcus’ heart to sink and he withdrew his touch. “Did she say something about me? I know we had formed opinions of one another prior to meeting. I thought we had learned a great deal from each other, even become friends.”
“Yes, you had.”
“Then what . . .” He held up a hand. “I’m sorry, it’s a personal letter.”
“She asked me to do something, something which affects you.” Elizabeth rose from Dee’s chair but wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Tell me, please.” He reached out to clasp her arms carefully.
Elizabeth looked up, cheeks still pink. “She wants me to admit . . .” Her voice dropped. He had to lean in to hear her. “That I’m falling in love with you,” she finished in a rush.
Marcus drew in a shocked breath. Had he heard her correctly? His introduction to this woman, to everyone in this household, had been unexpected and unlike anything he had experienced before. His way of thinking changed in so many areas, and Elizabeth had been a major part of those changes.