For the first mile she followed the fence that separated the San Pedro Riparian Conservation Preserve from the private land of the Esquivels and another rancher. Coming to a gate, she dismounted to lead the mare through before she continued on her way. She rode now along the inside of the fenced preserve, since the old Charleston mill site was also inside. Although she looked, she could not see much difference in the land on either side of the fence. That made her wonder briefly what the point was in isolating the river area from the rest of the valley.
But some people were saying the river was drying up, that the area had to be protected from grazing and other uses. Still, today there seemed to be about as much water in the stream as Emily recalled from 1889. There'd already been a couple of early summer rains, just as had occurred that year, which added runoff water to the stream.
A hint of brown tinged the water, silt washed in by the rain. Still the stream generally appeared narrow enough she could have leaped it and stayed dry-footed. But there were occasional pools, wider, deeper and mostly clear, just as she had seen in 1889, the day she ran into the bank robbers.
By ten o'clock, Emily approached Old Charleston, riding under the highway bridge that she'd crossed on that fateful day several weeks earlier. She stopped for a moment in the bridge's shade, trying to visualize Dorian's map and relate the actual terrain to the map's squiggly lines.
There had been so many changes. All the Charleston buildings were gone now. Only a few stone and cement foundations marked where the mill, the workers' homes, and several other structures had once stood. The scene looked so desolate and empty.
Emily urged the mare up a bank, then stopped. Wasn't this small flat where the Gonzales family's house and the cabin Jake rented had been? Nothing here now but dust, which swirled around the mare's feet as she stamped at a fly. Emily sighed.
The place she sought should be up this canyon, the one on her right. Just how far, she wasn't certain, but the map and pendulum had seemed to mark a spot perhaps a mile or two from the river. Emily glanced at her watch-ten fifteen now, which meant she'd better move along.
Just as it had in 1889, the sun beat down without mercy. In her hurry to get started, Emily had forgotten once again to wear a hat. She began to think she was going to spend the rest of her life sunburned. Dodging among the prickly cat-claw mesquites and guiding the mare through the larger rocks, she followed a faint path that lead in the easterly direction she wanted to go.
Soon she rode between a couple of ridges, which blocked the slight breeze and intensified the heat. Looking around, Emily felt sure she saw something familiar about this arroyo. Could it have been the one she and Zach had followed when they fled from Jake's cabin that night? Emily blinked and shook her head, then and now jumbled and blurring in her mind.
Maybe reincarnation was real. Could she have lived an earlier life here, and simply flashed back to it due to her injury? Or could there be such a thing as genetic memory? She knew of no ancestor who'd lived in the west a century or more ago, but that didn't mean there were none.
Stop questioning. This is not the time for second thoughts. You've got to concentrate on getting back to 1889 if you want this to work! Emily's self-lecture forced her thoughts back into some semblance of belief. She had been to 1889 and she was going to go back. No two ways about it.
As Emily rounded a bend in the canyon, she noticed something very strange. Was her vision going crazy or were bushes really fading in and out, other minor terrain features shifting as she gazed at them? Even the ground beneath the mare's hooves did not seem to stay the same from one second to the next. Rocks vanished and appeared, sand turned to gravel, to bare rock and back to sand.
The sorrel mare didn't seem to notice anything unusual for she kept striding along with a cow pony's sure-footed gait, but Emily almost had to shut her eyes to keep from getting completely disoriented.
All at once, she heard voices, at least two different speakers. She couldn't quite make out the words, for like the sights, the sounds faded in and out, now loud and almost clear and then vague and faint. They seemed to come from a sort of bench, some ten or fifteen feet above the canyon floor, too far over Emily's head for her to see anything.
A short distance on upstream, she spotted a trail leading out of the wash and urged the mare up the steep, sandy incline. They burst out on top with the sorrel's final determined leap. As she looked around, Emily pulled so hard on the reins the mare sat back on her haunches, sliding to a stop.
Not twenty yards from her, two men faced each other, some thirty feet between them. They stood in the classic "High Noon" pose, feet apart, arms held stiffly at their sides but extended out from their bodies, hands poised over six guns. The one facing Emily was certainly Jake McEuen. And the other-he turned slightly to give her a glimpse of his face. Yes, it was Zach. She'd know him in heaven or in hell!
Then, some faint sound or movement drew her attention to one side of the dueling pair. Off to Jake's right, a third man crouched behind a thick mesquite, holding a rifle. That rifle seemed to be pointing right at Zach. Emily didn't recognize the man, whose face was doubly shadowed by the bush and his wide-brimmed hat, but she didn't like his looks.
Count on Jake not playing fair. If his first shot didn't drop Zach in his tracks, the rifleman waited to take Zach out instead. No way!
Putting her heels to the mare once again, Emily charged into the clearing. Wind buffeted her on every side while the scene pulsed and swirled around her as she moved. Only Zach and Jake seemed to stay still, although they alternately dimmed and darkened, almost in time with the racing beat of her heart.
As if the same invisible puppet master had pulled the strings, both men's right arms dropped at the same instant, hands closing on the grips of their pistols. They seemed to draw in slow motion, still in unison. At the same time, the hidden rifleman pulled back the hammer on his carbine and shifted to get a clearer view.
Emily wasn't sure how she saw everything at once, but she did. Now it felt like the mare was swimming in viscous liquid, barely moving, while the scenery undulated around them. She shrieked as both men leveled their weapons, pulling back the hammers, forefingers tightening on the triggers.
"NOOOOO!"
The shots rang out almost as one, two or possibly three shots, their combined noise ricocheting around her. The mare screamed and took a huge leap. That put Emily in front of Zach, between him and Jake.
Something shoved Emily's shoulder, driving her back hard against the cantle of her saddle. She ignored the blow, wheeling the mare to take her closer to where Zach stood. He stared up at them in open-mouthed amazement.
"Come on, get on!" she yelled. "Hurry."
He grabbed for the saddle, somehow swinging himself up behind her in spite of the mare's plunging bounds. Another shot whined over their heads as they dove over the bank, back into the canyon floor. Emily had a vague impression of Jake, folding to his knees and then toppling forward into the dirt before the scene vanished from her sight.
They crashed down through a thicket of mesquite that suddenly appeared in front of them. The thorns slashed them but the brush seemed to break the force of their fall.
Settling into the sandy creek bed, the mare stumbled. She regained her feet in an instant and tore off down the canyon. Running in blind terror, she retraced the route by which she'd come. A couple more shots followed them but the bullets didn't seem to come even close.
Emily's left arm began to ache while a numbness spread along the muscle, stealing her ability to control her hand. She shifted the reins to her right, gripping with her legs to cling to the mare's undulating back. She had to fight to keep her seat as the mare flew down the canyon, zigzagging among the rocks and bushes.
Once again everything looked stable and normal, although a haziness had begun to obscure Emily's vision. When she started to waver in the saddle, Zach grasped her around the waist, holding her securely in his arms.
Gradually the mare's headlong flight slowed
to a lope, to a jolting trot and finally to a walk. At last she stopped, head low and sides heaving, covered from head to tail with a foam of white lather.
The circling support of Zach's arms released as he slid to the ground. He turned at once, reaching up to lift Emily down. She slumped into his arms, suddenly too weak and dizzy to control her own body. Nothing mattered now anyway except the knowledge that she was in Zach's arms. He was safe and he held her, keeping her safe, too.
~*~
Zach gathered Emily's limp form as she slid bonelessly out of the saddle. That was when he saw the scarlet smear on the left front of her shirt. It took a moment for him to recognize the sticky red was blood.
She'd been hit! One of the bullets meant for him had found her instead. In desperate haste, he stripped the shirt away to reveal the neat little hole, high in Emily's left shoulder, and the larger, much less tidy wound in back. The path of the bullet had been high, which assured him nothing critical had been hit, but blood drained from the exit wound at an alarming rate. If he didn't stop the bleeding quickly, Emily could still die.
Gently lowering Emily down on the sand, he tore his own shirt off, folded it into a compress, and pressed it over the wound. Bearing down firmly, he applied as much pressure as he dared, hoping to staunch the flow.
She was so white, so still. God, Emily, why did you have to show up at that moment? Don't die, please don't die! The bullet was meant for him, but had been too high. Jake's shot, gone awry. The gambler had proved to be no marksman.
Zach was almost positive he'd hit Jake with his one shot. He'd pulled the second one, releasing the trigger so as not to hit Emily or the mare. But there had been more shots. Shots that had a heavier report, a different sound from that made by their revolvers. Where those shots had come from, he wasn't sure.
He had no way to keep accurate track of the time but after what he estimated was about ten minutes, he eased the makeshift compress and peered under it. Yes, the flow had definitely slowed. Now only a slow ooze of scarlet leaked from the ragged hole, staining Emily's pale skin.
A moment later, she stirred, her eyes opening slowly. She looked up into his face with a tremulous smile.
"You're all right. I got there in time."
Zach swore under his breath, torn between the joy of seeing her again and the fury at her hazardous intervention. "You're absolutely mad, Emily Dennison, but I love you more than life itself. Don't you dare die from a bullet meant for me! Somehow we've got to get you to a doctor."
Emily twisted, trying to look past him. "Is the mare all right? I'm afraid we almost ran her to death. Poor thing, she was scared out of her wits."
For the first time, Zach turned his attention to the mare. The frothy foam had dried on her body, leaving a rime of salt, but her breathing had slowed, and she looked around, showing normal interest in what was going on.
"She seems to be all right. I think she's recovering from that wild run. Unless she's lamed herself somehow, I think she's unharmed."
Emily released a long shuddering breath. "Oh good, I didn't want to harm Esquivel's horse. Well in any case, I didn't want her to be hurt on account of what I did. But I had to find you, had to stop that stupid duel."
Zach stared at her, amazed and confused by her words. "How did you know? It's been over a week since you disappeared. Where have you been?"
Her eyelids fluttered, closing and then opening again, as she focused her gaze on him. "Just like I was afraid would happen, I got dumped back into my time. It made me so mad, and I knew you'd be frantic. As soon as I got out of the hospital, I began to try to find a way to get back here in time."
"But how did you know?"
"Your journal-a lot of things happened differently than what you'd written, but I had a hunch your duel with Jake was still going to occur. I was right."
Zach shook his head in confusion. She had to be delirious. Nothing she was saying made sense. How could she have read about the duel in his journal when she'd been away for over a week and he'd only known about it for two days?
Well, none of that mattered right now. Talking would only tax Emily's strength. What did matter was somehow getting her back on the horse and leading it to Tombstone. At least Nellie could minister to her there if the doctor was not available or was too intoxicated to perform.
From the looks of the wound, the bullet had passed through cleanly. Still, there could be fragments of lead in the wound, which would have to be removed to prevent infection. That was critical since there were no more of those marvelous pills she'd given to Mary Ann.
Working as fast as he could, Zach ripped both sleeves out of Emily's shirt and tore them into strips, which he used to bind the pad of his shirt in place on her shoulder. She seemed to slip into and out of consciousness as he worked, but managed to sit up and cooperate when he was ready to put what was left of her shirt back on.
He wanted to be sure she would be decently covered when they returned to town. A distant part of his mind noted she did have on a different "bra" now. Maybe she was telling him the truth about returning to her own time.
She seemed more coherent now. Looking intently at the mare, she gave a sigh of apparent relief.
"She looks all right now, don't you think? The way she took off, I was afraid maybe she'd been hit, but apparently not. I'm sure she's tired, though, after that run. We must have gone close to two miles. We're almost back to the river."
Zach looked around to get his bearings, which he'd been too busy to do any sooner. "I guess so. Do you think you can sit in the saddle if I lift you back on the mare? It's a long way to Tombstone. You can't walk that far in your condition, and I don't think I could get us both mounted, or that the mare could carry us both if I did."
"I can try," Emily replied. "I think I..." She stopped suddenly, tilting her head to listen.
After a moment he heard the sound, too. A motor of some sort, like a powerful machine.
"Wait, maybe we won't have to go back to Tombstone. I just heard a car. That means we came back through to 2000 instead of staying in 1889."
Now Zach was absolutely convinced Emily was out of her head. "What are you talking about?"
"I rented the mare and started off this morning in 2000. As I came up the canyon, things began to look weird, as if they were flickering in and out, shifting somehow. It was just like Dorian said, the power point, and at least two time lines intersected there. I broke through back to 1889, but when we took off, we returned to 2000."
Zach drew a deep breath, seeking stability. Emily's words were making a crazy kind of sense. He couldn't quite believe it, but she clearly did. "So we're in 2000 now?"
"I think so, I'm almost sure. In 2000, there's a highway, a paved-a macadam road going from the town of Sierra Vista, which is just east of Fort Huachuca, to Tombstone. It's probably not more than a mile away, which is why we could hear a car going by."
"That's what that sound was, an automobile? One of those motorized vehicles you were telling me about that goes faster than a train or a running horse?"
Emily nodded. "If we can get to the road, I'm sure we can flag someone down to drive us to Sierra Vista. That ER doctor will freak when he sees me back in the hospital with a bullet wound!"
Zach didn't understand all Emily said, but now was no time to question her about minor details. "Okay, I'm going to pick you up. Let me know if it hurts."
Emily sucked in her breath with a small gasp as he lifted her. He paused, anxious. "Are you all right?"
She exhaled, a gentle whoosh. "I'm fine. Go ahead. My shoulder just twinged a minute but it's okay now."
As he swung her clear of the ground, she flung her right arm around his neck and held on. He spun around and lifted her to the saddle. Though weak and shaky, she cooperated as much as she could. She swung her leg over the seat and then quickly dropped her right hand to grasp the saddle horn. Her face was chalk white and her eyes looked huge but she flashed him a game little smile.
"I can hang on up here for
a while. You head for that road and don't worry about me."
His heart nearly burst with pride and anguish, all mixed together in a great aching knot. She was so special, so brave, and now so vulnerable. And he loved her more than life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Zach saw Emily held her left arm close to her body, the elbow bent and her forearm tucked against her belt. Seeing her distress, he found a bandana in one pocket and used it to fashion a crude sling for her. She rewarded him with another smile, still courageous and spunky. Lord, she was amazing!
"Thank you, that's much better."
Heading off down the canyon, Zach walked slowly. He suddenly sensed the morning's events had taken their toll on him as well. His heart still beat an erratic tattoo, speeding up when he recalled the shock of Emily bursting into view just as he and Jake were about to draw, and the horror of finding she'd been shot. Now, if they were truly in the twenty first century...that would be one for the books.
He took about thirty minutes to reach the road, having to stop and lead the mare through a gate to reach it. The road was paved with macadam, just as Emily had said. White painted lines ran down the center and near each of the edges. He halted, not wanting to be too close if an automobile should come along, for fear it would frighten the mare.
Halting, he glanced up yet again to see how Emily fared. She had her eyes almost shut. Hunched over, she kept a death grip on the saddle horn with her right hand.
"This is the road, isn't it?"
Emily raised her drooping head, her eyes snapping open. She looked around, then nodded. "Umm hmm. There should be someone along pretty soon."
"Won't the auto scare the mare?"
"I don't think so. She's a modern horse, so she's used to cars."
Just then a vehicle came into view, so quiet they had not heard it approach until it rounded a nearby curve. Zach edged forward a couple of steps and waved his hand.
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