Back to Tomorrow

by Back To Tomorrow(Lit)

  "It's Marshal Cooper," Zach said. "He's been badly beaten but he's still alive. Help me get him free. He needs medical attention. Maybe Dr. Zangler will be sober at this hour." Turning to scan the group, he selected one young miner and addressed an order to him. "Run and get the doctor." He then sent Angelina to fetch Nellie.

  Drake simply stood, apparently shocked immobile. If the marshal were incapacitated, that meant he was in charge, but he hardly looked equal to the task. Emily shook her head ruefully. Drake was not the man Cooper was. He'd probably be unable to manage the marshal's job. Though honest and well meaning, he was not a leader but a follower. Tombstone required the firm hand of one who could give orders without hesitation and enforce them with the power of his personality, employing force only as a last resort.

  Flanagan hadn't lied. Cooper was back in one piece but that was little consolation. From what Emily could see, he would not be likely to resume his duties for a long time, if ever.

  Emily saw Zach shoot Drake a sharp glance.

  "Come on, man, help me here." Turning back to the weary looking horse, Zach tore into the ropes that bound the marshal across the saddle. Finally, he resorted to his jack knife when the knots defied his efforts.

  "They must have tied these ropes when they were wet. They're stiffer than rawhide and every knot has set up tight."

  Zach slashed through one line after another, until finally Cooper's body began to slide out of the saddle. Together Zach and Drake caught him as he slid free. Between them they carried him straight into the boarding house. Emily tagged behind, ignoring the near-silent spectators, who were for once too shocked to place bets or debate what had occurred.

  Nellie and Angelina met them at the door. Nellie's face blanched when she saw the marshal in their arms. His head lolled to one side, his face so battered it was nothing more than a lumpy purple mass. One arm hung at an unnatural angle and blotches of blood stained his shirt.

  "Oh my God," she gasped. "Is he...?"

  Zach shook his head. "No, he's alive. He's got a strong pulse and his eyes reacted to the light-I checked. Where shall we put him?"

  "For now, I want him in my room where I can watch him closely. Let me spread something on the bed to protect Mamma's quilt." Nellie hurried ahead, grabbed a heavy sheet of pillow ticking out of a chest and spread it over her bed. Zach and the deputy eased the marshal's battered body down gently.

  Following them into the room, Emily stood clear, biting her lip to keep her nausea at bay. She'd never seen anyone so abused. What kind of people would treat a fellow human being this way? That was the kind of enemy they were dealing with-men who had no honor, no sensibilities, who deferred only to those who were stronger, crueler, and more savage than they were.

  For several minutes she stood unmoving, too shaken to act. She could only watch as Nellie hurried around gathering bandages, a basin of warm water, and a variety of salves and potions she kept in her store of medical supplies.

  Finally, when Dr. Zangler arrived, clearly having just been awakened but at least not deep in his cups as he usually was by midday, she edged out and wandered back to the kitchen. Only when she saw the sink, still full of now-cold water and dirty dishes, did she recall what she'd been doing a half an hour before. Listlessly, she resumed the necessary chore while a sense of dread and despair began to build in her mind.

  Now that the marshal was out of action, who was to stop Jake and Bucky and even Sancho Perez from returning and doing whatever they wished? Deputy Drake was not likely to be able to do it, so the task would be up to Zach, Nellie, Mr. Cavendish, perhaps a few of the bolder miners and cowboys and even Emily herself.

  By the time Emily finished cleaning up from breakfast, she had to make plans for the midday meal, as she saw that Nellie was going to be occupied caring for the marshal. Emily managed to calm herself enough to concentrate on the immediate tasks and let the horrors of the future take care of themselves.

  By the time she had dinner ready, Emily served the meal to a room crowded full of Tombstone men. They sat jammed around the big table, discussing the events of the past several days and conducting a virtual counsel of war. Though not the absolute leader, Zach had a lot to say. She noted that men many years his senior listened when he spoke and most of them agreed with his advice and opinions. A warming flush of pride swept through her with that realization.

  The men spent most of the afternoon making plans. Before they dispersed, they had town watch patrols established and assigned, strategic caches of arms planned, and sentry rosters for the bank, the courthouse, the mine offices, and even Nellie's. Emily felt almost weak with relief. Her worries might have been unfounded.

  Perhaps the lawless elements had once again gone too far, as had occurred with the Earp and Clanton brouhaha a few years previously. When the citizens had enough, they stood up and took action, letting their defense declare for them that no more criminal abuse would be tolerated. A niggling doubt still nibbled at the back of Emily's mind, but she vowed to ignore it and go on about her business. Looking for trouble would get her nowhere.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  May 27, 1889

  After supper, Emily slipped out into the courtyard for a respite from the heat. She felt vaguely guilty, leaving the dishes to Angelina, but she simply had to rest for a few minutes. Such breaks had been a rare treat recently, since she'd taken on the management of the boarding house to allow Nellie to concentrate on nursing the marshal.

  She sank onto the bench under the rose arbor, feeling as droopy as the rosebush, which clearly suffered from the dry heat. Overhead, sunset turned the scattered clouds to streamers of gold and flame, radiant against the soft turquoise of the evening sky. The sight, though beautiful, looked so much like fire it made her feel even hotter.

  Looking back over the past week, she had to marvel that she'd been able to keep everything going. Of course she'd had help from Mary Ann, now up and about, while Angelina did even more than her normal share of the chores. She'd found a surprising pleasure in managing the homely tasks to ensure the boarders suffered no loss in the service and care to which they'd grown accustomed. Most of them were effusive with their compliments.

  Nellie, finally revealing the depths of her feelings for the marshal, spent every waking hour on his care. For the first two days, his condition seemed to be touch and go, but then his healthy constitution asserted itself and he began to mend. Surely though, he would owe his health if not his very life to Nellie's tireless efforts.

  At first, citizens had been stopping in almost hourly to check on his condition. Now the visitations slowed, as it became clear he would recover most if not all of his former health and strength, given sufficient time. Still, Emily felt a need to keep the coffee pot going, and under Mary Ann's tutelage, she'd baked extra pies and cakes to serve to those who dropped by.

  She fell into bed each night almost too tired to sleep. She continued to share her room with Mary Ann, who refused to go back to the room from which Jake had tried to abduct her.

  Spring slipped quickly into summer, and the season's characteristic heat slammed down over the valley, baking the dry gray hills, shrinking the river and drawing up the first of the summer thunderstorms. These Emily greeted with even less enthusiasm than the blazing heat. She could not see a flash of lightening nor hear the rumble of thunder without a sickening fear twisting inside.

  After a few minutes, Zach came out to join her. They'd had little chance to talk the past few days, and Emily found she missed his company more than she would have imagined. She scooted over to give him room to sit beside her.

  He reached out and took her right hand between his, holding it in silence for a moment.

  "I'm afraid you're working too hard," he said finally. "You've done a splendid job of keeping everything going while Mrs. Cashman took care of Marshal Cooper, but I can see it's taking a toll on you."

  "I think the problem is more the heat than the work," Emily replied. "Angelina does more than her share and Mary
Ann has been a great help, too. She's got a real gift for cooking and making odd bits of food into delicious dishes. She'll make some lucky man a wonderful wife."

  Zach smiled. "I keep telling her that. In fact, the young man father refused to let her see would be happy to have her, I'm sure. At least she's looking forward now to going home." He paused a moment, as if lost in thought. Then he continued.

  "You'll lose her help starting tomorrow, though. That's what I came to tell you. We're heading for Benson first thing in the morning. I've got several miners plus Curly Prentiss and a couple of his cowboy friends lined up to go with us, just in case McEuen shows up."

  Emily sighed, torn between gladness for Mary Ann and sadness at losing her company and help. "I'll miss Mary Ann, but I'm also glad she's going home. That will put her out of McEuen's reach for good." A sense of relief flooded through her. At least one of the problems would thus soon be solved.

  "If I wasn't needed here, I'd love to go along to see her off, but I suppose that's not possible. Poor Nellie is exhausted from nursing the marshal, and I wouldn't expect her to take over again yet, even though he is getting better." Emily sighed again. "I'll be glad when she can, though, to be honest. I never dreamed there was so much to manage."

  Squeezing her hand, Zach turned fully toward Emily. His face, reflecting the glowing sky, held an earnest intensity. He released her hand and reached to cup her face tenderly with both of his hands.

  "You are the most amazing woman, Emily Dennison. I'm sure I could never find another like you if I searched for a hundred years. Nothing would make me so happy as to have you honor me by becoming my wife."

  The moment Emily had both dreaded and secretly hoped for had come. She opened her mouth, but quickly, before she could begin to speak, he pressed two fingers to her lips.

  "No, don't answer me yet. But at least think it over until I get back. I know it's too soon, that we haven't met each other's families and that there are a hundred reasons why it's unwise, but somehow none of them matter any more."

  "This is not about the other night is it, about some obligation you imagine now exists?"

  He hesitated a moment, as if pondering her question.

  "No, not really. The wish has been with me all along, from the moment I realized you were a woman, when you appeared there in the street. I sensed at once there was something unique and wonderful about you."

  Surprising joy sang through her, but it was a bittersweet joy, tinged with sorrow and a pang of impending loss. Even while she exulted in the tenderness of his words, the gentle warmth of his touch, she felt the chill breath of foreboding.

  Zach spoke hurriedly, as if in a desperate urgency to convince her. "I've thought it over, made plans. We could go back to Philadelphia, or to New England if you prefer. I don't intend to make my living by playing cards like McEuen, but if you wouldn't mind staying here in Tombstone, I've spoken with Morgan at The Epitaph. He says he could use some extra help, part time at least. I can continue to send material back to the Star-Chronicle, too, and receive pay for that. If it became necessary, I'd even seek work in the mines. We won't be rich, but I will find a way to support you and any children that come along."

  Emily laughed softly. "Oh, I'm sure we could manage. I would not object to continuing to help Nellie, at least for a while. The idea of a married woman working does not bother me! In my time, almost everyone does. Not that I am agreeing yet, you understand, but I will think about your offer."

  Laughing, Zach enfolded her in a fierce hug. He lifted her clear of the bench and swung her around in a circle. "I think you do care for me a bit. I know you still grieve for your lost love. I won't ever aspire to replace him-they say one's first love always keeps a special place in one's heart. But we've done well together in so many adventures now, and between us, we can write some amazing tales."

  "Put me down! I can hardly think, much less talk when I'm so dizzy and you're squeezing the breath out of me!" Emily settled her hands on his shoulders and pushed, urging him to ease his crushing hold. He slowed the spin, set her back on her feet and relaxed his clasp.

  Emily caught her breath, struggling with the smile that wanted very badly to beam forth. "You know I won't, I can't ever be a perfect nineteenth century lady. I simply don't have it in me, so don't expect me to change."

  Zach laughed again. "I think, having known you, that a perfect nineteenth century lady would bore me to death!"

  "We'll argue and I won't allow you to shelter, cosset or patronize me." She wanted every objection and every potential problem to be aired now, brought into the open and understood between them. As if perhaps it would lessen the anguish when time twisted again and tore them apart.

  Zach nodded. "I know. I'll forget at times, probably, but I will endeavor to treat you like a partner, an equal."

  As they talked, Emily had grown peripherally aware of the mutter of thunder, gradually growing louder and sharper. Suddenly a flare of lightening lit the twilight to noonday brilliance. A roaring crash of thunder followed at once.

  Emily muffled her panic-stricken shriek against Zach's shoulder. She clutched at his shirt, trying to wedge herself into the solid protective comfort of his body. "Nooooo!" she wailed. "No, make it go away!"

  "Come on, we'll go inside. Everything's all right." He turned, keeping her in the circle of his arm. "I didn't know you were afraid of lightening."

  "I-I don't think I always was, but I'm sure it had something to do with my coming here, back to this time. I can't quite remember, but that flash and boom triggered a partial recollection. For an instant I was hanging in nowhere, in a whirlpool of noise and light, just like before. Hold onto me tightly. I don't want to fall back through time right now."

  Pressing her close against his side, Zach walked with Emily into the dining room. He paused, looking down at her with an unspoken question. When she nodded, he led her up the stairs and then down the hall to his room.

  Once inside, he shut the door and again gathered her into his arms. "I'll hold you so tightly you cannot possibly be torn away," he promised.

  After a moment, he swung her clear of the floor and settled her gently onto the bed. Lying down beside her, he enfolded her in a strong embrace and let her burrow against him, hiding her face in the hollow of his shoulder. He put a hand over her upper ear, pressing her head into the pillow and his chest. He did his best to block from her senses most of the flash and crash as the storm swept over Tombstone with an excess of light, noise and howling winds.

  Zach lay quietly, holding Emily close until at last the storm spent its violence. The thunder faded to a distant grumble, far down the river. He thought she had fallen asleep, but she chose that moment to draw back from him, her face a luminous patch in the darkness.

  "Thank you," she whispered. "I'm not usually such a scaredy cat but I've had one of those hunches again today. I felt sure something terrible was going to happen. Actually that I was going to be snatched away."

  "Are you saying you don't want to go back now?" He waited, almost afraid to hear what she would say.

  "Not right now, anyway. Ever? I truly don't know. I miss a lot of things about my own time, but...well, I want to see Mary Ann safely on her way home, matters resolved for good with Jake, Marshal Cooper healthy again-everything settled. And I really don't want to leave you. I'd be doubly lonely, now."

  The melancholy tone in her voice tore at him. By unspoken mutual agreement, they both moved. Emily lifted her face to meet his kiss, parting her lips to accept the gentle probe of his tongue, answering it with a swift teasing brush of her own. He groaned and gathered her close. Long moments later, he drew away and sat up.

  "What's wrong? Don't stop!"

  "I want to light the lamp. I need to see you tonight. Don't move, I'll only be a minute."

  Emily lay on her side, watching Zach. When he struck a match, the flare and the sulphurous scent made her think again of the thunder storm. A chill swept down her body, bringing goose bumps and an ache of tension.
The hunch had not gone away.

  Zach adjusted the wick and turned back to the bed. She held her arms out to him, needing nothing more now than the demanding intensity of love making to banish her nibbling fears and uncertainties. For tonight, she did not want to think of anything but Zach and all that he could make her feel.

  Returning to the bed, Zach sat on the edge, facing Emily. For a moment, he sat completely still, simply looking at her. Finally he reached down to brush her hair back from her forehead and tucked a few tousled strands behind her right ear. Then he drew his fingertips down along her jaw line, brushed them across her lips and let his hand fall back to his side. At his light, tender touch, Emily had blink away the sheen of moisture that suddenly filled her eyes. He made her feel so precious, so fragile and special.

  After a moment, he reached again and began to unfasten the tiny buttons that marched down the front of her shirtwaist. Patiently, he slipped each one from its buttonhole with slow, careful movements. Emily shivered as the gentle brush of his fingers tantalized her in exquisite fleeting touches. After he had the whole row undone, he paused, looking at her with a question in his eyes. She smiled at him in answer, quivering slightly in anticipation of what would happen next.

  He held out his hands. When she grasped them, he pulled her up. Once she was sitting, he peeled the garment away, drawing it slowly off first one shoulder and then the other and finally sliding the sleeves down her arms.

  Zach draped the white blouse across the straight chair at the side of the bed. "This looks good on you," he said, "and I took care not to damage it, because the fabric seems so fragile and light. But right now you look even better without it." He grinned, a mischievous, teasing grin that made Emily blush-she could feel the heat rushing over her cheeks and spreading down her neck and across the tops of her breasts, skin he had just bared.

  "Don't be bashful, Emily. You're too lovely to stay hidden away, at least hidden away from me. I want this image of you-to keep in my mind, tomorrow and always."