As he nudged a knee between hers, he felt her legs slide up around him, urging him closer, downward. She arched her back while she clawed at his sides, surprising him with the strength of her small hands. Another instant found him buried in her inner heat.
They moved together, driven by the demands of the most ancient of dances, each timeless movement and response familiar and yet completely unique and new. He marveled for a moment at the wonder of this small woman before the intensity of sensation swept all other awareness to oblivion.
~*~
May 19, 1889
Emily awoke as the first pale light of the new day colored the wispy clouds beyond the window. For an instant she was disoriented, almost panic-stricken by the unfamiliar weight that held her pinned to the bed. Then memory resurfaced in a rush.
Tangled together, she and Zach had both fallen asleep moments after the soaring crescendo dropped them into sated exhaustion. Growing chilly in the pre-dawn hours, she had apparently snuggled closer, almost burrowing into him. He lay now on his side with his body curved around hers, an arm and leg thrown across her. That was what trapped her.
Although a silly self-satisfied grin kept tugging at her mouth, common sense and guilt rose faster than dough on the stove to dominate her thoughts. Of course Nellie would be horrified to learn of this liaison. Angelina would be equally shocked. Emily might get herself thrown into the street as a woman of loose morals should anyone find out. She had to get back to her room unseen.
Emily moved experimentally and found she could shove Zach's arm aside. Another more energetic wriggle freed her from his leg. She slid off the bed, trying her best not to make it bounce, and in the growing light looked around for her clothes. Though wrinkled, they were undamaged. She stepped into the skirt, hauled the blouse over her tangled hair, and tiptoed for the door, bra and panties in her hand. Luckily, Zach seemed to be a sound sleeper.
The door squeaked a little when she opened it. She froze as he turned over and mumbled something, but a moment later he again settled into a deep sleep. Emily crept out, shut the door and scurried to her room.
She dropped to the bed, needing time to sort through all that had happened. Nothing had been resolved. Their argument had ended not in any agreement or conclusion but in the most mind-bending sex Emily had ever imagined. The weekends she had spent with Rich after they became engaged were but pale intimations of what she had experienced in Zach's embrace.
How could that be? Had she somehow fallen in love without realizing it? But it was too soon! And the wrong time and place. No, oh no! I don't want to be tied to this time, to...oh my God, what have I done?
Yesterday's amusing fantasy of seducing Zachary Tremaine had become a reality too stunning to assimilate. Had she made a terrible mistake that would haunt the rest of her life? Not that Zach wasn't a good man, even forward thinking for his time, and certainly a noble and principled person in every way. He was one of the nicest men she'd ever met. And sexy. The grin returned for a moment as she remembered.
But he'd probably now feel obligated to marry her. Would that mean she'd be bound for life to this time and place, unable to ever get back to the twenty-first century? Emily shook her head and let out a long sigh. In the space of a few short hours, her life had become even more complicated. Would she even want to go back to the future if it meant leaving Zach behind?
She had always been able to make decisions, to choose between desires or duties, to select a course and follow it without needless and useless regrets. But this time the choice would be ten times harder than ever before. An icy fist closed around her heart as she admitted that either way she had so much to lose.
Outside Emily could hear the gradual increase in noises as Tombstone came awake for a new day. Hoof beats clattered down the street, some accompanied by the rhythmic creak of wheels. Someone called a greeting to another person across the street. In the room next to hers, the bed creaked as its occupant stirred and prepared to rise. Birds chirruped in the cottonwood trees in Nellie's garden.
Ready or not, she had better wash up, dress properly, and get downstairs to help serve breakfast. When that was done, it would be time to go see the marshal.
Zach appeared at the last moment for breakfast, just before Emily and Angelina began to clear the tables. Emily's heart gave a funny little lurch when she saw him.
She lingered in the hallway to watch him. His hair, still damp from a fresh combing, shown with coppery highlights, and in his jeans and flannel shirt he made a very handsome westerner. He was tall and very well built for a man who made his living at a sedentary occupation like writing. Perhaps being a reporter in 1889 was a more active job than it was in 2000.
He clearly didn't see her at first, going to an empty spot at the larger table and sitting down. When Emily brought his plate, and replenished the dishes of eggs, sliced ham and biscuits, he looked up, pinning her with an intent gray stare.
"We need to talk," he said, speaking barely above a whisper. "We really need to talk."
Emily nodded. "I know, but there isn't time now, and when I finish with the breakfast chores, I have to go see Marshal Cooper." She felt tired and half cross, as if she hadn't slept at all, and were not really as clean or tidy as she should be. She was definitely in no mood to deal with problems. Perhaps Zach sensed her distress or caught some of it in her expression.
He reached out and put his hand on her arm. "I'll go with you. If I vouch for you, I'm sure it'll help. I've gotten to know Marshal Cooper fairly well and he seems to trust me."
Emily hesitated. Zach's company would be a mixed blessing, but perhaps more good than bad. "I appreciate that," she replied. "I'll be going over to his office a little before nine. That's about an hour now."
He nodded. "I'll go talk to Mary Ann a few minutes and then I'll be back down to wait for you."
Emily turned away and busied herself with gathering the dishes, not wanting anyone to notice any subtle changes in the way she and Zach acted with each other. Trotting back to the kitchen with a stack of plates, she caught herself humming a sixties rock tune.
When had her heart become lighter than it had been when she came downstairs at six thirty? Somehow the grim business of making decisions no longer seemed so depressing. Perhaps it was all out of her hands, anyway. Whatever was to happen would happen, and she'd cope with it.
Zach's "I'll go with you" lent a brightness and warmth to the day that had been missing before he gave that reassurance. He had not sounded as if it were a distressing duty or a task he was forced by obligation to assume, either, so perhaps he felt...No, I will not second-guess him. Not yet. He was just being kind because he's that sort of a guy.
~*~
When Zach entered Mary Ann's room, he found her propped up in bed clearing the last of her breakfast from her plate. Angelina perched at the foot of the bed, chattering cheerfully, while Mary Ann added a few words here and there. Her color was looking more normal, neither the paleness resulting from the loss of blood or the unnatural flush of fever, and her wan, hopeless demeanor had lightened to something much more positive.
She turned and smiled at him. "Good morning, Zach. I missed you yesterday but Mrs. Cashman said you were away on some business. I'm feeling much better today. Tomorrow perhaps I can get out of bed for a little while."
Zach sat down in the wooden chair at her bedside. "You're looking a lot better. Emily's-er, Miss Dennison's medicine made a big difference for you."
Mary Ann nodded, her green eyes wide and serious. "Yes, I know. I must find a way to thank her. Mrs. Cashman said the tablets came from back East, a new medication especially made to cure infections. I know how fortunate I am to have had access to such a thing. I lost the baby, though."
A shadow of sorrow crossed her face. "I know it sounds strange, but I really wanted my baby, in spite of everything. When I learned it had died...I was almost ready to give up and die myself."
"You'll have another one someday, sis. As soon as you are strong enough, you'
re going to get on the train and go home to Mamma. It will mean so much to her to have you with her again. And I don't think Robbie Spears has ever married."
He watched closely as his last words registered. For a moment, hope lit her face. At the sound of her first beau's name, her eyes sparkled.
"Truly? Robbie is still single? Oh Zach, do you think he'd want me after all that has happened?"
Zach couldn't be sure, but he believed the young farmer had a good heart. Besides the fact that Robbie didn't attend their church, the causes behind their father's adamant disapproval of the lad remained a mystery.
"I can't guarantee it, of course, but I think he still carries a torch for you. If you're around home, I'd bet the chances are good he'll come courting. Especially now that Papa isn't there to run him off."
"It's hard for me to believe Papa is gone." Mary Ann sighed. "I feel bad now about disappointing him so. I know he wanted what he felt was best for us, and I was much too headstrong and rebellious. Life has not been fun, but I have learned a great deal. If I can get safely away from Jake McEuen, I swear I will do my best to become a good Christian woman and make someone a good wife, whether it's Robbie Spears or someone else."
Zach bent down to give her a gentle hug. "I'm sure you will, sis, and I'll do my very best to see you get the chance."
She looked up at him, her eyes full of emotion. Tears shimmered at their corners.
"I owe so much to so many people who have helped me, and I fear I'll not have the opportunity to thank them all, much less repay their many kindnesses. Promise you'll help with that, Zach. The Gonzales family and Mrs. Cashman, Emily and..."
"I'll do my best," he vowed, "but the first thing we must do is get you back on your feet and then headed for home. Right now that's all you need to worry about-regaining your health and strength. I'll take care of the rest of it." He stooped to brush a kiss across her cheek.
Pulling out his pocket watch, he saw it was five minutes before nine. Emily would be waiting-at least he hoped she would-and he did not want to disappoint her or break his promise to go with her. He had seen how worried she was about dealing with the marshal. The least he could do at this point was to support and assist her through that meeting. He bade Mary Ann goodbye and hurried downstairs.
Emily waited in the parlor. She'd taken off her apron, tidied her hair, and draped a shawl around her shoulders to protect the sunburn on her neck and upper arms. She turned when she heard his footsteps and gave him a tremulous smile.
"The time got away from me," he admitted. "Mary Ann is a lot a better today and I'm trying to be sure she concentrates on getting well and going home. If we can just keep Jake away, or her away from him, I think it will all work out. Are you ready?"
Emily shrugged. "As ready as I'm going to be, I suppose."
When he offered his arm, she slipped her hand through his elbow. Together, they walked out onto the boardwalk and down the street toward the marshal's office. Although Emily was uncharacteristically quiet, Zach didn't try to force a conversation.
Perhaps she was mentally rehearsing her story, which was no doubt a wise move on her part. From what he'd seen of Marshal Cooper, the man was astute, a keen judge of human nature and not one to be easily fooled or beguiled by a pretty face, pert figure or flirtatious manner. He'd be willing to bet the marshal would quickly spot inconsistencies in a suspect's alibi and pick at them like a bird with a choice insect until he cracked them wide open.
Of course Emily was not going to lie but she would have to be careful. Zach doubted she would want to confess her strange tale of travel from the future and the rest of the incredible story she'd told him. And how would she be able to explain some things without going into this? The marshal would want to know where she was from and why she was in Tombstone, and she'd better have a good answer prepared.
He was about to advise Emily of that fact when he realized it was too late. They were at the marshal's office door. He reached to open the door and escorted Emily through it into the dusty little room.
As Zach and Emily entered the office, Marshal Cooper looked up from behind his desk, where he'd been busily writing something on a foolscap tablet. The strong morning sunlight did not treat him gently, revealing the lines and wear in his sun-darkened face and the bright silver of his close-cropped hair. He stood and circled the desk to greet them.
He shook Zach's hand, his grip firm and steady. "Good morning, Zach." Turning to Emily, he hesitated, as if suddenly realizing he did not know her name. "Miss...?"
Emily stepped forward, sliding her hand clear of Zach's arm. "I'm Emily Dennison. I understand you know Mr. Tremaine. I made his acquaintance very soon after I arrived in Tombstone."
The marshal nodded. "And if memory serves, that arrival was under very peculiar circumstances."
Emily tensed subtly, though the marshal's remark could not have been unexpected.
"Yes sir, one might say that."
Cooper turned back toward his desk, indicating a couple of chairs at one side of the room. "Have a seat and I'll see if I can find a couple of clean cups and some coffee."
He disappeared through an open door into the back part of the building and returned shortly with two cups of coffee.
Emily hesitated, clearly debating how much to tell. Zach almost held his breath, praying she would not trip herself up with either too much detail or not enough.
"Upon arriving in Tombstone, I suffered an accident, after which Mrs. Cashman kindly took me in. My memory is-well-not wholly clear on how I got here, to be truthful. I'd been visiting a friend at Fort Huachuca who'd married an officer after we left school. I think perhaps I had started home...back to New England." She paused and took a deep breath.
The marshal watched her keenly, an expression of interest and concern marking his rugged features. "Memory loss often occurs with head injuries and I believe you suffered one."
"Yes, that's true." She seemed to gather herself and then plunged on. "But I'm sure you're mostly concerned with how I came to be in the company of the gang that had robbed the bank. To explain that I've got to go back a couple of days. This whole misadventure began when one of Jake McEuen's cronies kidnapped me off the street."
"What?" The marshal visibly snapped to attention. "When did this happen?"
"Two days ago, about one o'clock in the afternoon. I was returning from the laundry when a rider jostled me and then lifted me to his horse. I've since learned the man's name is Tug Gallager, but I just called him 'the hulk'."
A slight smile twitched the marshal's lips. "An apt handle," he murmured.
Emily went on to describe her brief sojourn in Charleston, their trek to Bisbee and her decision to return to Tombstone on her own. "So, it was pure accident I happened to be there when Deputy Drake's part of the posse caught up with the gang. But I truly think Jake McEuen is involved, even though he was not there. His partner Bucky-I'm not sure what his name is but that's what he goes by-was with Perez and the others. Za-Mr. Tremaine told me you encountered Mr. McEuen out towards Gleeson, with a lame horse, but he slipped away about the time our group met yours last night."
Again the marshal nodded. "So he did. At the time, I didn't think much about that, but perhaps he had other concerns besides taking care of his horse."
"Are you satisfied now that I had nothing to do with the robbery?" Emily's voice held steady but Zach heard the subtle inflection of anxiety in her words. He had to come to her defense, especially if any further convincing was needed.
"I can vouch for most of Miss Dennison's story," he said. "Until we parted in Bisbee, I shared much of her misadventure, and I'm completely convinced she had nothing at all to do with the robbery. We were in Bisbee when it took place."
Marshal Cooper smiled. "So am I. I really didn't seriously think you guilty, Miss Dennison, but I did want to question what you might have heard or seen. Take a minute and go back over it in your mind-there may be some minor detail that could hold the key to everything."
; After sipping some of her coffee, which was finally cool enough to drink, Emily told him every fragment of conversation and every small detail she could recall from her encounter with the robbers.
Zach could not imagine how any of her recollections would support the case against the men or further implicate Jake McEuen, but if it might, he certainly wanted the marshal to know of them. The marshal took a few notes, nodded once or twice, but didn't reveal much else.
Soon Zach and Emily took their leave and started back toward Nellie's. For a few moments they walked along in silence. Emily reached up and slipped her hand into his arm again.
"Thank you for going with me. The moral support helped, if nothing else. I guess Marshal Cooper didn't really suspect me, but I can understand his concern and perhaps confusion as to why I was with the gang."
"I found that quite a shock myself," Zach admitted. "You've been a source of constant surprises. Like last night-it wasn't...you weren't..."
Emily interrupted his awkward efforts. "I can say it-I wasn't a virgin. Back in my time, I was engaged to be married, but my fiancé was killed in a terrible accident shortly before the wedding."
Zach stopped, looking down at her. Shock and sympathy warred with an overwhelming sense of relief that she was no longer committed to another man. "I'm truly sorry," he said after a taut pause. "How long ago was that?"
Emily gave a small awkward laugh. "About a hundred eleven years in the future-no, last October, so I suppose you could say it was about eight and half months ago."
Before either of them could say more, they noticed a crowd gathering around Nellie's front door.
"Oh, oh," Emily cried. "What's happening now?"
Before the words had left her mouth, Zach took off at a trot. Emily hurried after him. When they reached the outer edge of the crowd encircling the door, Zach caught a glimpse of a dark haired man standing just outside the doorway. Just inside stood Nellie cradling a double-barreled shotgun. Her voice carried clearly over the murmur of the watchers.
"There's no way you can come barging in here with your demands, Mr. McEuen. If you're wise, you'll turn around and go back to one of the gambling dens or saloons where you belong."
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