Taken by the Cowboy

by Julianne MacLean

  Preparing herself for his shocked response, Jessica drew in a deep breath, and finally confessed the truth.

  "I’m from the future."

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  From where Jessica lay with her cheek on Truman's chest, he did not seem shocked. But of course, he was a cool-headed gunslinger.

  Alert to any reaction, she waited nervously, but observed only that he continued to breathe at the same pace he’d been breathing before she’d dropped the bomb. His heart, which beat inside him directly below her ear, did not quicken. He simply lay there, twirling his index finger around a lock of her hair, staring at the ceiling.

  "I traveled through time to get here," she continued, when she felt ready to reveal more.

  Still, he failed to react as she imagined he would.

  Bewildered, she began to ramble. "I was born in 1981. In Missouri. I don't know what happened to get me here, but here I am."

  His hand stopped moving through her hair. At last he said, "I don't understand what you're saying."

  "I don't understand it either." Jessica rolled off him and sat up. "When I came here—it was the night Lou was killed—I was driving to my mother's house." She glanced down at him. "I was driving in an automobile. You don't have them here. They're like wagons without horses, but they go much faster and run on gasoline. I was traveling at a speed of sixty miles an hour. It’s very fast. You’d really like it."

  His eyebrows lifted.

  "The road was wet, and I hydroplaned and flipped my car. I’m not sure how it happened, but lightning struck, then suddenly I was here. I have no explanation for it. I certainly didn’t know anything like this was possible. Not even in the future.”

  Truman held her hand. "Jessica, I really want to believe what you’re telling me—"

  "I know it seems impossible. I couldn't believe it myself at first, but you have to trust me. I'm not making this up."

  "I do trust you, but—"

  "No buts." She squeezed his hand. "Think back to that first night."

  Truman said nothing for a moment or two. Then he sat up beside her. "I remember you were confused and disoriented. You talked about walking from a car wreck. I thought you meant a train."

  "No. It was red hatchback."

  His eyebrows pulled together in a frown. "And the things you wear under your trousers..."

  "Panties."

  “And that...zipper thing.”

  "All from the future. But there’s so much more."

  He looked at the window, opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t.

  Jessica said a silent prayer that he would believe her. If he didn't....

  She simply couldn’t bear to think about that. She needed him in her life here. He was her rock in this century. Her only anchor.

  His expression stilled and grew serious. "It's the craziest story I've ever heard."

  "I know."

  He scratched his head. "Time travel...."

  "Yes."

  "It sounds insane."

  "I know, but it's true. How can I prove it to you?" She paused, staring. "Look. See how perfect my teeth are...how straight they are?"

  "They're very nice."

  "Thousands of dollars to straighten them. Imagine that, will you? Braces."

  "Never heard of them."

  "That's because they're not invented yet. We also have cell phones – little communication devices that people carry around everywhere. Some people carry their BlackBerries in a holster like yours, but it’s a phone, not a gun. We can take our phones anywhere, and punch in a number and call someone, or text a message to them, like a letter that gets delivered that second. And medicine… I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Surgery has come a long way, let me tell you. People are going under the knife to get their noses changed or their double chins removed. They call it a facelift. And there’s air travel, too. You wouldn’t believe it.”

  He stared at her, and the amusement in his eyes faded away.

  Jessica said nothing more. She waited uneasily, watching as everything settled into his mind.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned the face lifts.

  "It almost makes sense,” he said.

  She regarded him with hopeful surprise. "It does?"

  "Yes. I knew you were odd, and I haven’t been able to find you in any town records. I put the word out everywhere. No one has ever heard of you."

  "That's because I never existed before the night Lou was killed." Jessica sat nervously, watching his expression change as he stared at her.

  He sat up abruptly and pulled her into his arms. After a moment, he drew back and looked her in the eye. "Will you be going back there?"

  "You believe me?"

  He blinked slowly, his gaze uncertain. "I don’t know.” He paused. “That day, out on the prairie...."

  "I was trying to find a way home,” she explained. “I thought if I spun around very quickly…but it didn't work."

  He sat in silence. Jessica knew he was remembering everything he'd ever seen her do or say, and he was putting the pieces together.

  "You still haven't answered my question," he said, leaning back with both arms propped behind him.

  Jessica combed her fingers through her hair. "Even if I wanted to go home, I don't know how to get there. I've been trying to figure it out, but I don't even understand how this happened in the first place. If I knew, I might be able to duplicate it."

  "I don't want to lose you."

  She looked into the blue depths of his eyes. "I don't want to lose you either."

  They shifted onto the blankets, Jessica on her back and Truman leaning down.

  "I haven’t always said the right thing,” he told her. “I didn’t trust you when I should have. I kept things from you about Dorothy and what really happened, but I trust you now. You're in my blood."

  Jessica kissed his soft lips, and soon the urgency of the kiss mounted.

  "Stay," he whispered into her hair. “Don’t go back.”

  Jessica squeezed him. "I wanted to go back before, but now I'd rather die than leave you."

  He pulled her roughly, almost violently to him.

  "But what are we going to do about Virgil’s murder? What if the judge sentences me to hang?"

  "We'll leave Dodge."

  She swallowed, nervously. "We'd be outlaws."

  "Yeah, but we'd be alive—and together."

  Jessica considered that, hesitating before she made any suggestions that could change the course of their future.

  "Wouldn't it be better," she asked, "to locate Angus and get him to defend me and try to find the real killer? I didn't do anything wrong. There’s no real evidence against me, other than that newspaper article which is all lies. It's just because I have a reputation. That’s why people believe I did it, but that won’t hold up in court."

  Truman ran a hand over her shoulder and down the length of her arm. "We need to find out who provided the information for the articles.”

  Jessica nodded. "Yes, but I asked Mr. Gordon about it when the first article came out. He said he wouldn't reveal his sources."

  Truman kissed the hollow at the base of her throat. "I'll ask him about it in the morning."

  She squirmed with pleasure and moaned softly with ecstasy as he rolled on top of her and began to lay scintillating kisses down the side of her neck. "And what makes you think he'll tell you?"

  "What makes me think that?" Truman’s head drew back with surprise, then he smiled a wicked grin. "How about the overwhelming size and thrust of my six-shooter?"

  It was enough to bring a swift end to the discussion.

  * * *

  The morning sun poured through the jailhouse window, landing a decorative square of light on Truman's paper-strewn desk. Outside, a small herd of cows was driving by, their clamoring hooves and constant moo's a distraction for Jessica, who was walking into the jail cell again. Truman guided her in, then swung the cell door shut on its squeaky hinges until it came to a final, cla
nging close.

  "If anyone comes in here today,” he said, “tell them I guarded you all night. Act like you know nothing about the hanging." He turned the key, and it clicked. "I'm sorry to have to do this."

  "It’s necessary. I'll be fine."

  "I'll bring you some breakfast, then I’ll try to find Angus. I’ll also head over to the newspaper office to talk to Gordon. If I can't learn anything or get a retraction, we’ll leave here tonight."

  She reached through the bars to take hold of his hands. "I trust you.”

  "I'll be back soon." He kissed her one more time, and left.

  When the door closed behind him, Jessica sank onto the crackly straw mattress on the cot, tipped her head back against the wall, and stared at the cobwebs near the ceiling.

  A short while later, the front door opened, and Jessica leapt to her feet.

  Angus, appearing out of breath, walked straight in. "Jessica?"

  She hurried to the bars. "Oh, thank God! Angus! Where were you? I’m so glad you’re back. You wouldn’t believe what’s happened.”

  “I know all about it,” he said. "Where's Sheriff Wade?"

  "He's gone for breakfast. What have you been doing? You look like you know something."

  He crossed the room and stopped in front of the bars. His brown eyes sparkled with excitement. "I have wonderful news. I've figured out how to get home."

  Jessica took an abrupt step back. “What do you mean?”

  Angus reached into his pocket, searching for something. "It's this. It’s as good as any plane or train ticket."

  Jessica stood staring, her heart racing like a runaway wagon. With trembling fingers, she reached out to touch the shiny object in his hand. "You found my watch," she said.

  "Yes. Isn't it amazing?"

  To see this golden object that had once been a part of her old life, sent a prickle up her spine. "But what does this have to do with anything?"

  "I’ll tell you.” He reached into his pocket and dug around some more. “I finally found my belongings from the twenty-first century, and I remembered my watch was missing, too, just like yours had been. So I went to the place on the prairie, where I traveled through time, and searched for a while, and there it was—in the grass.” He held out his own watch. “I searched further, and I found yours, too, only a few feet away.”

  "Mine is still ticking," she said, holding it up to her ear.

  "Yes, but look at the date."

  "July 19th, 2011. That’s a month after the day of my accident."

  "Yes. It's incredible isn't it? It's a piece of the future, the only thing we have that connects us to it. According to this, time in the future is still rolling along, parallel to our existence here."

  "But how will this get me back?" she asked.

  "This may sound far-fetched to you—”

  “Believe me, nothing at this point will sound far-fetched.”

  He nodded knowingly. “After I found our watches, I walked around on the prairie for a while until I stepped on a piece of ground that looked like it was wet, but it wasn’t wet at all. There was a glimmer on the grass, almost like dew, and when I stood on it, I felt a tingling sensation all over.”

  Jessica felt her eyes widen. “What happened? Did you pass through a tunnel or something? Is that where you were? Did you go home and come back for me?”

  “No, nothing quite so dramatic as that. It was nothing more than the tingling. So I marked the spot and went home to think about everything. I tried to remember what happened when I passed through the tunnel the first time ten years ago.”

  “And?”

  "I was driving, just like you, and lightning struck the car as I drove over that spot on the highway. Time seemed to stand still for that instant while the car was sizzling with light. Then I began to spin through the tunnel. At the far end, I could see brown prairie grass, and I felt like I was going to crash into it. But before I came out of the tunnel, my watch came off. It didn't rip off either. It just came unclasped, almost gracefully. I watched it float along beside me, and then I thought: ‘I can't lose my watch. I have an appointment.’ But then I fell out of the tunnel and landed on the prairie—in 1878."

  Jessica shook her head skeptically. "I still don't understand how this can get us home."

  “I’m not finished explaining. As I said, I went home to think about everything and wondered what would happen if I stood in that spot again, dressed as I was ten years ago—with everything I had in my possession when I traveled through time. I put on my suit—and believe me, it wasn’t easy to get into. I’ve put on a few pounds.”

  Jessica waved her hand. “Continue…”

  “Yes, yes… So I put everything on and went and stood in that spot, but again, nothing happened, except for the tingling sensation, until I looked at my watch and realized it had stopped ticking years ago. The battery had run out. So I reset it for the correct date, ten years later, which took a few tries. I wasn’t sure exactly what the date would be—but when I found it, I was sucked up into some kind of vortex.”

  “You’re full of it!”

  “No.”

  “But why are you still here? Didn’t it work?”

  Angus sighed heavily. “It would have, I believe, if I’d let it. But I panicked. All I could think about was Wendy.”

  Jessica paused. “You changed your mind?”

  “Yes. I ripped the watch off and flung it away, and the next thing I knew, I was lying on the prairie again, staring up at the sky. Here in 1881, feeling very relieved.”

  Jessica squeezed the bars. “I have to sit down.” She moved to the cot and sank onto the mattress.

  “Are you all right?” Angus asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  But that was a lie. Until this moment, she felt she had no choice about remaining here in the nineteenth century. It was easy to choose Truman. The fact that she loved him made it simple.

  But suddenly it wasn’t so simple anymore. She did have a choice. Did she want her old life back? To see her parents again? Her friends, her dog? To have indoor plumbing and cell phones and the miracles of modern medicine?

  Or did she want Truman, and life as a renegade outlaw?

  “Will you go back?” Angus asked.

  Jessica thought about it. “What if I try, and I end up in the wrong time? There would be no point to that. No point at all.”

  "I'm sure your date of arrival is right here." He pointed at the watch.

  Jessica stared at it, ticking away as if it really were July 19, 2011.

  "Jessica...."

  She looked up.

  "Do you know what might happen to you if you stay here?"

  She gazed back down at the watch. Her stomach began to lurch and roll. "Yes, but we could defend me in court. You’re a lawyer."

  "But things are different here. There’s a reason they call it the Wild West. There’s a lawlessness here that you just don’t understand. I really think you should leave. As soon as possible."

  "What if I don't want to go back?"

  He shook his head at her. "But it was all you ever talked about. What about your family?"

  God, she felt so disloyal to them right now. "Angus, I’ve found something here that I just can’t leave behind."

  He breathed deeply. "I see, and I understand."

  "I can't leave him."

  "Does he know where you come from?"

  She nodded.

  "Did you tell him about me, too?"

  "No."

  The door opened just then. Truman walked in with breakfast, but stopped abruptly when he saw Angus. "Morning. Good to see you back."

  Jessica took one look at him—so darkly handsome in the doorway, with his black hat and long slicker, his steel badge and leather gun belt. Sensual memories of the night before flooded her mind and body, and she wondered how it was possible to desire someone as much as she desired Truman. What in the world was she going to do?

  * * *

  "I brought breakfast," Truman annou
nced. He noticed Jessica’s panicked expression and knew immediately that something was afoot. “Care to join us, Angus?”

  Jessica gave Angus a pleading look that seemed almost desperate.

  “That would be delightful," he replied.

  Truman set the crate on the desk and removed a pot of hot coffee, a bowl of eggs, and some cornbread. "Compliments of Dodge House."

  He served Jessica first, and took her plate into the jail cell. She gave him a polite, yet distracted smile that didn’t help to ease his suspicions that something was amiss.

  The three of them ate and made small talk. When they finished, Jessica brought up the subject of her arrest.

  "Is there any way you can help us, Angus?” she asked. “You know I didn't kill Virgil. There’s no concrete evidence."

  He wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. "What have you found out about it, Truman?"

  "To be quite honest, sir, it doesn't look good."

  "Why is that?"

  "Virgil was shot between the eyes, just like Lou. And after that article in the paper about Jessica, and the fact that she accepted the reward for Lou's death—"

  "But I didn't kill him. We all know that. Someone else did. I assumed they'd come forward for the money, but they didn't. I only took it because I had none. And then, when Lou's gang showed up, I was too busy worrying about what it was that they wanted."

  "Which was?" Angus asked.

  "They wanted the combination to the bank safe, which I knew nothing about." She took another sip of coffee.

  Truman leaned back in his chair. "Jessica and I think there might be something to those articles in the paper. Henry Gordon was pretty secretive about it."

  "I'll tell you what," Angus said. "I'll pay Jessica's bail today to get her out of here. Then you two can see what you can find out."

  “Angus, would you really do that for us?”

  He leaned forward and placed his hand on hers. "Of course. If things don't go well, I don't want you to be locked up in here."

  Jessica shook her head at him. Truman caught the exchange, witnessed the torn expression on her face, but said nothing. In light of what she told him last night, he thought it best to wait until he could talk to her alone.