The Time-Traveling Outlaw

by Macy Babineaux

“He had talent,” Logan said, looking over the plans. She had almost forgotten that in the time he had come from, he had first been a soldier, then a man who oversaw the building of things. He’d likely seen many plans for buildings. She took some solace in the compliment from the man she now loved to the one that was gone, and the tears threatened to fall once more, but she took a deep breath.

  Logan flipped the sheet to the other side, the curve of the paper keeping it from lying flat. She fetched four cups from the cupboard and used them to pin down the corners.

  “Is it all right if we write on this?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, her voice breaking a little. “It’s fine, really.”

  “Good,” he said. “I want you to help me make a map of the town and the surrounding area. I need to know as much as I can, about what buildings are where, what’s in them, and which ones Sturgess owns.”

  Sally took one of the pencils in hand. She’d watched William sketch many times, but she’d never done it herself. But when the tip of the pencil touched the paper, something happened. She decided to start with downtown Lockdale, the main thoroughfare, and work her way outwards to the surrounding farms and ultimately her own property.

  She drew a small, distinct rectangle representing Popper’s General Store, a decent enough place to start, as it was a hub of activity and commerce in the town, and one of the few businesses Sturgess didn’t own outright. As her hand guided the pencil across the page, she found she liked it.

  The act of drawing something she knew from memory, rendering it with her own hand, was immensely satisfying. After the General Store, she drew the Sheriff’s office, then the doctor’s office, then the saloon, her hand moving quick and light across the page.

  Logan didn’t say a word, sitting back with his arms folded and watching her work. Soon she became lost in the process, almost in a trance as the representation of downtown Lockdale began to emerge from nothing onto the paper.

  Soon she had the main street mapped out, and she was beginning to draw the stables when the tip became too blunt.

  “Here,” Logan said, holding out his hand. He’d taken a knife from a kitchen drawer. Sally looked up, as if in a dream. She hadn’t noticed him do that. What did he want with a knife? Then she realized.

  She handed the pencil to him and watched him whittle the end sharp again. While he did, her palms felt itchy, wanting to get back to the drawing. Was this how it had been for Will? Why had she never asked to take the pencil in hand herself?

  Logan handed it back, and she touched the freshly-sharp tip to the page and began again. She tried to draw from scale as best her memory served, realizing that she had already mapped out most of the area in her mind before starting, having done a pretty nice job of leaving room for the surrounding areas. She labeled each building in the perfect cursive she had learned in the one-room school when she was little, later refined under her mother’s tutelage.

  She occasionally took a few seconds to look up and survey the work as a whole, to see what she had done and what was left to do, and she marveled to herself. The map was good. No, it was better than good. How strange that she and the man she had married were talented in the same respect, though they had never known it. The thought made her a little melancholy, but the joy of making Lockdale come to life from a blank sheet offset her mood.

  She was probably adding more detail than necessary, but she appreciated that Logan didn’t interrupt her to tell her he only needed the basics. He sat there watching her, surely able to tell she was enjoying herself. That made her appreciate him all the more.

  Soon she had mapped out nearly all of the town, and she looked up, stunned to see that the sun was already low in the sky.

  “How long have I been doing this?” she asked.

  “Four or five hours, by my count,” Logan said.

  “Really? Why didn’t you rein me in?” she asked. “I’m sorry I’m taking so long.”

  He shook his head. “I couldn’t stop that,” he said, pointing at the huge sheet, now rich with a detailed schematic of the nearby town. “That’s a work of art.”

  She let out a little laugh. “You think so?”

  “No doubt about it. You’re a natural,” he said. “You want to take a break?”

  Did she? “No,” she said. “I’d like to keep going. I want to finish, even if it takes all night.” Then she realized he might be hungry. “Oh, do you need something to eat?”

  He laughed. “Tell you what,” he said. “You keep working. I’ll cook us some dinner.”

  “I can’t let you do that,” she said.

  He stood up, waving her back down into her seat. “In my time, things are a bit more egalitarian. Men do their share of the cooking and cleaning.”

  “That sounds pretty nice, actually,” Sally said.

  “The future has its charms,” he said, looking around. “But so does the past. I mean, the present.”

  She smiled up at him. How confusing it must be to travel through time.

  “I like it here,” he said. “Though I can’t say I don’t miss air conditioning.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll explain some other time,” he said, winking. “Go on and get back to work.” A simple gesture, but it made her stomach flutter all the same.

  She put her head down and kept drawing while Logan cooked them eggs.

  12: Logan

  After they ate, Sally kept right on working on the map. Logan kept right on watching her, but with a full belly, exhaustion overtook him and he fell asleep.

  “I’m done,” she said. She was shaking him awake. He opened his eyes to her beautiful face, flush with excitement.

  He shook his head to wake himself up. Sally took a step back. Logan leaned over the table, the lantern now lighting the map.

  He let out a low whistle. He’d seen plenty of maps, and this one reminded him most of the kind you’d find in the opening pages of some thick fantasy novel, the kind of map drawn by an artist.

  It was all there, Lockdale, the surrounding farms, and just about every single detail you’d want to know, from creeks to small caves, to an estimate of how many cattle Old Man Jospers had grazing in his fields.

  “You did all this from memory?” he asked, amazed.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Is it all right?”

  Is it all right, he thought. More than all right. One thing being a soldier had taught him: Information won more battles than bullets or courage. He didn’t know what was going to be useful and what wasn’t, but knowing the terrain, knowing where the resources were, that was half the battle.

  He had to kill Sturgess to save Sam and his daughter. There was something else on his mind, too, something he hadn’t shared with Sally yet. If he could alter little things like tie colors and facial hair, then who knew what else he could change by killing the ancestor of Harken Sturgess? Maybe he could even save Natalie.

  He hadn’t mentioned that possibility to Sally because one, he wasn’t sure it even was a possibility. And two, he wasn’t sure that if he accomplished what he hoped to he might want to go back to that future, a future where he was still married to Natalie. He didn’t know what he wanted to do, because he had fallen in love with Sally.

  The thoughts of what were and what could be if he succeeded were too much, tying his mind up in knots. So he tried to focus on the mission at hand.

  “What are these stars?” he said, pointing to a place on the map not far from her ranch labeled “Tin Mine.” There was a little star drawn near it, along with nearly every other building in Lockdale.

  “Those are places owned by Sturgess,” she said.

  “God,” Logan said. “He owns damn near everything.”

  “Yes,” she said. “I knew it on some level, but didn’t realize just how deep he had his hooks in this town until I drew everything out. Hell, in a lot of ways, he is this town.”

  That’s what worried Logan. If he didn’t think he could change anything, he’d tell her to pack up righ
t now. They’d run away, to California, maybe, start all over. That sounded damned fine, and the thought was tempting. But he owed a debt to the man who had given his life to send him back. And he owed Natalie.

  Sally yawned, stretching her arms above her head. “If you want to study it, you can ask me more questions in the morning.” It already was the morning, but he didn’t say anything. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Okay,” he said, looking from the map to her. She started to walk past him, and he caught her arm. He pulled her in close, cupping her jaw in his hand and drawing her in for a gentle kiss. “Thank you,” he said.

  When she stood up, she looked dazed. She let out a little giggle. “I’m not completely sure you’re the one that should be doing the thanking,” she said. She leaned back in and kissed him again, soft and sweet. Then she turned and headed for the bed.

  He hunched over the map and studied it for a little while, but he was tired as well. The realization of just how dumb he’d been just rolling up to Sturgess’s doorstep hit him. Like she had just said, the man was this town.

  He could try to sneak back in during the night, maybe hide somewhere. But now the Sheriff and his deputies knew his face. That was risky. So was getting caught by Sturgess in town. The map helped mitigate some of his advantage, but it wasn’t a silver bullet.

  Logan stood up and stretched. Then he walked into the bedroom. He took off his boots, his jeans, and his shirt. Sally was curled up in the bed, a light quilt squeezed under her chin with both hands. She was snoring softly. God, she was beautiful. Looking at her made him feel happy and sad at the same time. Thinking of sliding into bed beside her and taking her in his arms made him feel something else altogether, but he was too tired for that right now. Maybe when they woke up.

  He got into bed, pressing his body close to hers, putting his arm around her.

  She woke, taking a deep breath. “Did you figure out what we’re gonna do?” she asked in a thick voice. “Do we have a plan?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I think so. It’s dangerous, but so are all our other options. Go on to sleep. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” He kissed her forehead, then nuzzled his nose against her neck. She let out a low “mmm” and pulled the blanket up to her chin again.

  Soon they were both fast asleep.

  Logan woke to a warm, wet sensation, a wonderful feeling like a part of him was enveloped by something loving and sexual at the same time. He opened his eyes to see Sally looking up from between his legs, her mouth down on him. Her bright amber eyes were wide with excitement. Her blond hair pooled around his upper legs, framing the act. She had the base of him in her hand, working her mouth up and down in slow, deliberate strokes.

  Oh God, he thought. This was how he wanted to wake up every morning for the rest of his life.

  Her mouth felt incredible, her tongue working against the bottom of his shaft, her soft lips gliding up and down, while the warm wetness made him glisten as she lifted up each time.

  A few more strokes and then she lifted her mouth off of him. “Good morning,” she said, smiling.

  “Good morning,” he said, careful not to move an inch. He didn’t want to disturb what she was doing.

  “I woke up and you were like this already,” she said, grasping the base and waving his own cock at him. “I wanted to see what you tasted like.” She moved her mouth down on top of him again and maintained eye contact while she moved up and down on him some more.

  “I’m glad you did,” he said, letting out a nervous little cough. He was euphoric, this strong, beautiful woman from the depths of his past giving herself to him like this. He hadn’t thought much about the sexual habits of people on the frontier, about how often men received oral sex from their women. But this was clearly not the first time for Sally Macintosh. She knew exactly what she was doing, and she was highly skilled.

  Maybe she somehow keyed into his thoughts, because she pulled her mouth up again. “You don’t think any less of me for doing this, do you?” she said.

  “No,” he said quickly. “God, no. I think the opposite.”

  She smiled, that bright, beautiful smile of hers, still holding him, and he thought he just might explode right there, but he tried to hold it in.

  “That’s good,” she said. “I reckon we’re both enjoying this, but just right now I want to feel you inside me again. That okay with you?”

  He nodded vigorously. The temptation of running away with her was so strong. She sat up in bed, pulling her nightgown over her head, the shafts of sunlight streaming in through the window made her breasts seem almost luminescent, the nipples glowing.

  She turned around, so that her perfect bottom rested on his belly. She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. Then she sidled forward, and grabbed his manhood once more, guiding it up inside her as she straddled him.

  Then, facing away from him, she began to undulate her hips, working herself up and down and back and forth in slow, rocking motions. Her blonde hair fell down her smooth back. Her shoulder blades moved up and down as she grabbed his thighs with each hand for support and began to rock faster.

  It struck him that the name of this position was the reverse cowgirl. He didn’t remember where he knew that from, but the fact that he was being mounted by an honest-to-god cowgirl almost made him blurt out a laugh. Instead, he managed to hold it in, a smile spreading across his lips. Who had originally come up with that name? Now that he’d gone back in time, maybe he was actually the one who coined it. He hadn’t thought too much about the paradoxes of time travel, and now sure as hell wasn’t the time to start, so he pushed it out of his mind.

  He reached up and took her by the hips, pushing himself up inside her as she rocked on top of him.

  Her mouth had felt glorious, but this was even better. He got to see the round curve of her bottom pushing against his body, the line of her back, and her hair as it shook with each thrust.

  She squeezed his thighs one more time, then lifted her arms up to grab her own hair and bunch it up on top of her head, exposing her long, white neck. He could see the sides of her breasts, bobbing with the motion, almost more tantalizing than seeing them in full view.

  That did it for him. He felt the rush of pleasure and he pushed up into her and held it, arching his back and releasing everything he had. He grunted as he came, squeezing his eyes shut so hard tears formed at the corners.

  Light exploded behind his closed eyelids, and he let out a long breath.

  “Ahh!” Sally cried out, continuing to grind on top of him. “Oh, yes.” She had still been holding her hands up on top of her head, but she lowered them again, one cupping him down below, the other grasping one of his thighs. Then she threw her head back and let out a long, heavy moan. She almost sounded like she was in pain. She squeezed his thigh so hard it hurt.

  Then she stopped moving, sliding forward off of him. She turned around to face him, sitting up on the bottom half of the bed. She tossed her hair to one side and smiled.

  “You’re incredible,” he told her.

  “I reckon we’re kind of incredible together,” she said, crawling on top of him. She gave him a long kiss. Before pulling away, she licked her lips across his.

  “I reckon you’re right,” he said. “I wish my evil jailors in the future had decided to experiment on me earlier.”

  “Well,” she said, “now that you’re here, we can do a lot more experimenting on each other.” She lay down on top of him, putting her head on his shoulder and nuzzling under his jaw. “Do we really have to face him again?”

  “I do,” Logan said. “But you don’t. In fact, I’d feel better if you were out of harm’s way.”

  She sat up quick. “There’s no way in hell I’m not helping you,” she said. “Don’t talk like that again.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said. “It’s just…if something happened to you, I’m not sure if I could forgive myself.”

  She looked down at his chest, seemingly thinking about the fact that he’d already
lost one woman he loved, and realizing that she hadn’t considered he might lose another. But then she lifted her head and looked at him with eyes flashing with determination.

  “We’re in this together,” she said. “I understand if you’re worried about me, but it goes both ways, mister. If I rode off and left you here to face Sturgess alone, I couldn’t live with myself if I could have done something to help you and didn’t. So tell me what your plan is.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “You’re something else,” he said. “Well, like you said, Sturgess owns everything in town. He basically is Lockdale. So marching back in there is a terrible idea. We need to make him come to us.”

  “You mean here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “Well,” Logan said. “You still have something he wants, don’t you?”

  She thought for a second, then her eyes widened. “My land.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “You ask him to come here. Tell him you’re tired of fighting and you’re ready to sell.”

  “But why would he come here?”

  “To gloat. He’ll want to see what he won up close,” he said. “And he doesn’t know I’m here, doesn’t even know that I’m still in these parts. You still have that hunting rifle, right?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll set up a sniper position on the roof of the barn,” Logan said. “When he rides up, I’ll kill him.”

  “But surely he won’t come alone,” Sally said.

  “No, but Sturgess is a bully. And one thing about bullies is, you take out their leader and suddenly they aren’t as brave. Even if he comes with four or five men, which I doubt, they’ll likely turn tail once he drops, especially if there’s a sniper firing from a position they can’t see. And I also doubt they’ll be back for retaliation. If he’s anything like my Sturgess, his men are loyal to his money, not him. And once that’s gone…”

  She was chewing her lower lip. “Most of that seems sensible enough, I guess,” she said. “Where am I during all this?”