Beatrice’s eyes flew open as a gasp rushed from her throat. “I didn’t … I don’t … I didn’t do anything to turn his attention to me. Why? Why would he focus on me so completely like that?”
“I don’t know, maybe he needed someone to place his anger on? Maybe he was just so broken he couldn’t move past you? Do you see it now, Beatrice? Do you believe me?” His voice held such earnestness, she marveled at his insistence.
“Okay, I’ll trust what you say is true, what God has shown me to be true.” Her voice wavered. “That doesn’t make the guilt any easier.”
“Yeah, I don’t imagine it would.” He trailed his hands from her hair down her arms. He squeezed her hands and stepped away.
She tore her gaze from the concern and promise spilling from his expression. Her eyes caught on stone markers in the new aspen grove. She walked toward them, needing to focus on moving forward from her inner thoughts. They couldn’t stand around all day, waiting for her to stop woolgathering. She had dragged Chase out here to prove to him his brother had been transported back to her time, that she was from 1879, not to stand around and soak his shirt with her tears. If he hadn’t already been chilled from the cool autumn air, he certainly was now with the front of his shirt drenched.
She huffed as she picked up her pace. She hadn’t cried this much since her ma had died when she was twelve, and then she’d done most of that crying in the privacy of her hayloft. Crying left one too exposed, too vulnerable to those around her. Too weak. Weakness didn’t last long in the west, which was why she’d done her best to squash what popped up.
She glanced back to Chase. He didn’t seem to mind her crying like a newborn lamb. In fact, he was awfully sweet, wanting to help and feeling like he couldn’t. He caught her peering back at him and smiled. She nodded curtly and turned forward, lengthening her strides. As she walked, she thanked God for Chase and his insistence to see herself through God’s eyes. Though she didn’t know how she’d handle the guilt of killing William, she now understood his attack wasn’t because of anything she had done. At least the blanket of shame wasn’t as stifling as before.
“H.R. Bennett, Died February 4, 1929.” Chase’s voice emerged in little more than a whisper. He cleared his throat of the shock and grief that lodged there at what appeared to be his brother’s grave.
“Hunter decided it might cause problems in this time if he used his full name, so anywhere it was recorded publicly, he went by H.R.” Beatrice’s shoulder rose and lowered out of the corner of his eye. “I can’t believe they lived as long as they did. They died within weeks of each other, after being married fifty-two years. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen a person live that long.”
He rubbed the palm of his hand across his chest to ease the pain tightening around his heart. “Hunter wasn’t ever one to be average. If he could excel at something, even something like longevity, he’d do it.”
“It eases my heart a bit to see that they lived so long, having each other all the way to the end.” She sighed beside him, her arms crossing over her chest. “Come, I want to show you something.”
He stayed rooted to the spot as she turned and moved away. He stared at the gravestone, all the stress of not being able to find Hunter for the last year releasing into the ground below him. The pain of never seeing him again dulled with the knowledge that Hunter’s life had been full and long. Chase nodded, promising Hunter in his heart that he would do all he could to help Beatrice, to see to the mission Hunter had commissioned for Chase in his letter. He also prayed there might be more letters for him, so he could understand the life Hunter had lived for the fifty-two years he’d been blessed with in the past.
Chase turned and jogged to catch up to Beatrice, who was using a piece of wood from the burned remains to dig in the dirt beside the rock wall of the mountain. Dirt was smeared across her face where it looked like she’d swiped tears as she dug. He wasn’t sure how she coped with all the change when he was trying to keep up without stumbling into confusion.
“Here, wait a sec, Bea. I’ve got a shovel.” He took off to his pack tied behind the saddle. He inwardly chuckled at her as she stood tapping her foot, her arms crossed impatiently.
“I thought you said you were getting a shovel.” Her eyes narrowed at what he held in his hands. She rolled her eyes and bent down, reaching for the wood she’d set aside.
“I did. It’s a folding shovel.”
She tipped her head back to see him, her eyebrows squishing together and her head tilting to the side.
He stifled a smile. “Here. Watch.”
She stood up with a huff and tossed the wood away. She glanced at the metal in his hands critically and then looked back up at him, her brow cocking in doubt. Man, he loved the expressions she sent his way. Sassy, and a bit like she thought him a nitwit one minute and the next gazing at him as if he held her steady from falling out of balance. It had him off-kilter, and he found it enthralling.
Chase threw her a lopsided grin and slowly started opening the shovel that when folded, could easily fit in a gallon Ziploc bag. She snorted in amusement, quickly covering her mouth. Her eyes winged to his as they opened wide in disbelief. He swallowed his chuckle.
“I have a tent in my back pocket if we end up needing to stay the night,” he said as serious as he could, wanting to keep the amusement going.
“No!” She grabbed his arm and turned his body, looking at his jeans pocket.
Laughter burst from him at her shock. “Just kidding.”
She gasped and whacked him on the arm. “You scoundrel.” Her lips tweaked up and her eyes sparkled in the sunlight.
He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling as if the joke had been turned on him. “What kind of treasure are we digging up today?”
“Hunter’s pack.” She pointed at the ground, unaware of the force she’d just slammed into his chest. “I buried it here when we realized he wasn’t going back home. I’m not sure if it’s still here or not, but figured you might want to see it.”
He nodded and clicked the shovel into its final position, the sound clicking his brain into the certainty of what he’d find. He realized with the grave and this pack, if they found it, all his doubts would be put to rest. Which meant, though completely impossible, Beatrice truly was from the past. He pushed the shovel into the dirt and threw aside the layers the last one hundred and fifty years had piled on top, each shovelful ratcheting his heartbeat higher until he worried his heart would beat right out of his chest.
The shovel chinked onto something metal. Chase tossed aside the shovel and sank to his knees, digging through the dirt with so much fervor the rocks cut at his hands. Beatrice kneeled across the hole from him and started throwing dirt to the side. He sucked in a breath when Hunter’s canteen with the vinyl sticker of Chase’s logo appeared from beneath the dirt, the colors faded and leaving only the black outlines. They pushed more dirt from on top of the pack, exposing the military-issue pack Hunter never went anywhere without. Chase pulled on the straps, only to have one fall apart in his hands, the canteen pinging to the ground like a note of finality ringing through his brain.
He sat back on his heels and lowered his head. The grief and the turmoil of the last year and four months burned hot within him. He buried his head in his hands, pulling hard at his hair, desperately grasping for control so the edges of himself wouldn’t shred to pieces like the pack they’d just uncovered. Sixteen months of hoping for some sign his brother was still alive ended in the unthinkable. The loneliness that had nearly smothered him since Vicky had passed breathed its sickly warm presence down his neck. Hunter was gone. Chase’s family, every single one of them, was with the Lord in heaven. What little comfort that brought didn’t compare to the gaping hole they’d left.
A small, warm hand ran across his shoulders, easing the tension bunching the muscles tight. He turned his head, his hands falling into his lap. Beatrice stared at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, her face mirroring his anguish. He blinked an
d cringed as a stupid tear trailed down his cheek, dripping into the arid Colorado dirt.
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry, Chase. Sorry this isn’t what you were hoping to find.”
He nodded and sighed. He peered into the hole full of decomposed gear and glanced back to the gravestones marking a life fully lived in love. He returned his gaze to Beatrice and shrugged. Though it wasn’t what he’d hoped to find, it was better than the nightmares that had kept him awake in the night. She heaved a deep breath and surveyed the area, the sunlight catching her hair in bronze and golden hues. Yes, what he’d found was much better than his worst nightmares, maybe even better than his best hopes.
Chapter 9
August 18, 1880
Oh Beatrice, you’ll never believe what my dear Chase did this morning. It’s my fault really. I should have reexamined the cabin when he started crawling the other day, but I honestly couldn’t imagine him getting around so quickly. I had left him playing on the floor with a toy Hunter had whittled. I was only in the bedroom a few minutes to change the sheets. When I walked back in to check on him, he’d crawled over to the kitchen and found the jug of molasses we keep on the bottom shelf. Beatrice, he was covered in it from head to toe, laughing and clapping his hands together. Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, just as I crossed the room to get him, he grabbed the bag of flour on the next shelf up and dumped the entire thing all over him. The mess was atrocious. It took me an hour to scrub the rascal clean, then another two hours to get the house back in order. I made Hunter clear all the shelves within Chase’s reach of anything that can make a mess.
Beatrice sat on the couch reading the next letter from the chest. She laughed as Viola described baby Chase finding the molasses jug on the shelf. She could picture it—the baby covered from head to toe in the sticky goo. She closed her eyes and could see his sweet, mischievous smile and hear him chortling at himself. Oh, the mess that would’ve made. She snorted, covering her mouth when she read how the little rascal hadn’t stopped with molasses.
Chase entered the room from the hall, his face lit up when he saw her. “What has you laughing so loud I can hear you all the way in my room?”
“You’ll never believe what your namesake did.” She bit her knuckle to keep the laugh from breaking out.
“Oh no, I’m afraid—”
A knock at the door caused her to jump. Chase walked to the door, a scowl quickly crossing his face before he schooled it to a passive expression. She placed the letter aside and stood. Trouble was coming. She quickly glanced around the room for something she could use as a weapon, wishing she had thought to put her holster on.
Chase opened the door. “Eddie, you all are back sooner than I thought you’d be.”
“No use lollygagging about. Not like there’s anything to do in the middle of Utah anyway. The other shepherds wanted to get scooting over the border, so Verne and I headed on back,” a voice said from the porch.
She wasn’t sure what it was about the rough, low voice, but the sound of it had spiders skittering up and down her spine. Was it the momentary look on Chase’s face that caused her reaction? For Pete’s sake, Beatrice, this is 2019. You don’t have to be on edge with every visitor that shows up. She forced herself to relax her shoulders, to embrace this new life where death wasn’t always one step behind and people showed up at the doorstep all times of the year.
“Great.” Chase nodded. “Come on back and I’ll give you your bonus.”
She skirted around the furniture to get a better view. The man’s head bobbed as he gave a mock salute to Chase. His short red hair didn’t move with the motion. His nod stopped short when he caught sight of her. Chase turned, and his eyes lit up when he saw her.
“Eddie, this is my good friend Beatrice who will be staying here for a while,” Chase said. “Beatrice, this is one of my ranch hands, Eddie. He and Verne just got back from delivering the flock to their winter home.”
“Nice to meet you.” Eddie’s voice had dipped low, and his smile was friendly.
Chase moved toward the hall, motioning for Eddie to follow. Eddie peered at the family pictures lining the walls as he moved slowly down the hall. He paused, and Beatrice’s heart picked up speed.
“Hey, this looks like you.” He pointed to the picture and turned to her.
“Oh, well … that’s my great grandma.” Beatrice cleared her throat of the lie, knowing he stared at the only family picture she’d taken with everyone. “I’m named after her.”
He leaned closer, his eyebrows wrinkling as he rubbed his chin with his hand. “You look a lot like her.” He glanced back at her. “Like, exactly like her.”
She shrugged and moved back around the furniture. “Crazy, huh?”
“Yeah, freaky crazy.”
He slowly nodded as he continued down the hall, casually glancing at the pictures. His head did a double-take, and he froze. Leaning closer to a picture, he lifted his hand toward it. His intense scrutiny stopped Beatrice as she went to the couch.
“Is something wrong?” She changed course toward the hall.
Eddie flinched and chuckled. He cocked his eyebrow as she came down the hall. “Maybe we’re related somehow.”
She cocked her head, closing the gap between them. “How’s that?”
“See this guy?” He pointed to a picture of a cowboy. “He looks exactly like my cousin Jake.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, he’s not a cowboy though. Businessman, through and through,” he said as he continued down the hall. “So, where are you visiting from?”
“Well, I’m kind of homeless right now.” She tried to come up with something that would sound realistic. “When Chase invited me to come visit, I decided to accept his invitation.”
“Hmm, well, I hope you enjoy your stay. It’ll be good for Chase to have a friend around.” Eddie smiled at her as they entered the office.
“What about me?” Chase looked up from the desk as he finished writing on a slip of paper.
“Oh, nothing much. I was just explaining how I’m glad you won’t be moping around the place anymore, talking to the dog and riling Storm.” Eddie laughed.
“Riling Storm? That horse is the epitome of annoyance.” Chase scoffed as he handed Eddie the slip of paper.
Eddie grabbed it and tipped it to his forehead. “Thanks for this. I better go get cleaned up. What time do you want us here, boss?”
“Two hours should work.” Chase turned back to his desk and pulled another slip of paper from the tablet and folded it in half. “Here, can you give this to Verne?”
“No problem. See you in two hours.” Eddie squeezed past Beatrice with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and headed down the hallway.
“He seems nice,” she said as the front door shut.
Chase stood and followed her down the hall. “Yeah, he’s nice. I don't really know much about him though. Showed up here asking for a job. Said he needed an escape from life for a summer.”
She paused as she passed the picture he’d said looked like his cousin.
“Everything okay?” he asked as he passed her.
“Yeah, just thought I’d look at these for a minute.”
He nodded in understanding and headed into the living room. She scanned the pictures around the cowboy, her gaze sliding to a stop on a picture of Orlando and Samara surrounded by children. Her heart clinched with renewed grief. She should probably take some time to really examine the pictures on the wall so that every time she ventured down here, the past didn’t slap her with another reminder. Maybe then she’d be able to find joy in the family she’d left and the ones she never got to meet.
Beatrice leaned on the top of the corral fence and surveyed the horses. The mountains beyond shone in the late morning sun. If it wasn’t for the occasional roar of whatever vehicle it was Chase was working on, she could pretend she was back in her time.
She’d watched the sunrise earlier that morning from the porch swing attache
d to the back of the house, wondering what she’d fill her life with now that she didn’t have to work so hard to survive. Part of her longed to venture out of the mountains and see this brand new world she lived in, while the other part, the larger part, wanted to hide where life was still somewhat familiar.
As the oranges and pinks had faded to blue, she hadn’t found anything near an answer, so she’d gone into the kitchen and attempted to make breakfast. Beatrice snorted softly as she thought of Chase skidding into the kitchen with wide eyes at the smoke billowing from the bread toasting machine. Her stomach warmed at the memory of his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his muscles, exposed from not having a shirt on, rippling as he wrapped his hands in a towel and carried the offending machine outside. She wasn’t sure if the beeping still ringing in her ears was from the alarm that had blared in response to the smoke or the embarrassment she’d felt at being caught staring at his body.
She took a deep breath in to cool her thoughts. While the acrid smell of what Chase called diesel tinged the crisp air, the mountains she knew still dominated her senses. She breathed in again, comforted by the smell of the sunshine warming the pine needles and changing aspen leaves. The air was cool as it passed her nose, letting her know that soon the mountains would be covered in snow, the golden leaves that graced the trees now buried for another year. She pulled the jacket of Vicky’s she’d found in the storage room tighter around her body, wishing her buckskin coat hadn’t been stained by William’s blood.
She pushed that thought away with a shiver. There would be no use going there again. Storm pranced in the corral, throwing his head up and whinnying loudly. As the happy sound flowed through her, Beatrice’s arms felt light, as if the weight of the last few days was an aspen leaf that detached and floated off into the breeze. Her eyes stung in relief. She whistled for Storm and blinked her eyes quickly before she did something idiotic like cry. The horse trotted up to the fence and huffed in her face before lowering his head. She rubbed his face between his eyes and crooned soft words to him.
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