West (History Interrupted Book 1) (14 page)

“Breathe.” The sheriff’s voice reached me.

I was on my knees, clutching at his clothing. One of his arms was around me, holding me against his strong chest. I met his gaze. His steady look soothed me while his full lips and rugged features made desire warm my lower belly.

“I’m okay,” I whispered, a little overwhelmed by the spell, coupled with his presence. Blood trickled down my face. Dabbing at it, I sat back to take my weight out of his arms. Helping me one moment, about to kill me the next, I didn’t quite understand where I stood with this man.

“This is what happens when a madman puts things in your brain,” the sheriff said softly. “You’re in over your head, Josie. Whether or not you know it, you need my help.”

Did I hear that right? Speechless, I gazed at him.

He said nothing more, simply steadied me with his wide hands on my body.

“Who are you?” I managed at last.

“I could ask you the same,” he replied.

“Josephine!” Nell’s alarmed cry came from the front of the barn.

“Look, the others eventually sought me out. They knew what you haven’t figured out yet, that they were in trouble. When you’re ready to talk, come find me, but don’t wait too long. You don’t
have
too long,” the sheriff told me.

All kinds of spidey senses went off in my mind, none of them good.

“The night you found me. You were expecting me, weren’t you,” I said.

His jaw clenched. For a long moment, his cold stare was his only response. “You are involved in something you cannot possibly hope to escape alive. If any part of you thinks I’m telling the truth, come talk to me.”

I shivered.
What the hell is going on?

“Nell!” he called, standing. “She’s here.”

I shook my head to clear it and pushed myself to my feet. The sheriff stood back. Nell appeared around the corner and dashed to me.

“My god!” she exclaimed. “Miss Josie, don’t you never, ever run off like this again! If I had to tell your father –” She flung her arms around me, almost hysterical.

I listened to her babble, eyes on the silent man watching me. The well was still whispering. There was one way to know what its secret was, but I didn’t look forward to digging around for a dead girl.

What to do about the sheriff …

This is what happens when a madman puts things in your brain.
How did he know what Carter did to me? More importantly, was my nosebleed a sign of something more than an oncoming sinus infection?

“Miss Josie!”

“I am well,” I told her, forcing my attention back to my babysitter. “I got dizzy.”

“Dizzy? Again?”

“I’m just tired.”

“You need to see the doctor,” Nell declared. “Your father and Philip await you for breakfast. After, I’ll send for Doctor Green.”

“Ugh. Philip,” I said with a tired smile. I looked around, not certain if I wanted to invite the sheriff or not. His touch had sent a thrill through me, but he scared me a little. “No doctor, Nell.”
He can’t help me anyway, if something is wrong with the brain chips.

“Quiet, child. You need help.” Turning to the sheriff, Nell asked politely, “Will you join us, Sheriff Hansen?”

Please say no,
I willed him. I didn’t feel ready for the talk he wanted to have. I trusted Carter, despite the occasional misgivings I had about him. I didn’t know what to think about the sheriff, except that I needed time and space to clear my head.

“Much obliged but no. Give Mr. John my regards,” he said. “Tell him we found those missing sheep of his.”

“He’ll be pleased to hear it.”

The sheriff tipped his hat and started the other way around the barn, as if he, too, needed to put distance between us.

I walked with Nell around the barn and entered the house. She accompanied me to the dining parlor, where a small breakfast feast waited.

“You stay here,” she said brusquely. “Your father and Philip must be smoking cigars.”

I sat and waited until I heard Nell’s footsteps fade before I pulled my cell free.

What if someone figures out I’m not supposed to be here? Like Taylor Hansen?

I waited, listening for the sound of anyone coming.

That’s not the kind of change history needs.
Carter’s response made me roll my eyes. His second message was even less encouraging.
I can’t confirm it, but I think he’s one of those people I warned you about, who doesn’t want history changed. They can be motivated enemies. If you could figure it out, it’d help me decide how to manage him.

Manage him
. It didn’t sound like a good thing. I sighed. I wasn’t manipulative and had never been a good liar. How, then, did I figure out what I needed from Taylor and determine which twin I needed to be wary of?

I texted Carter again.
I’m having nosebleeds. Is that a side effect?

Voices came from down the hallway. I watched the text bubble pop up that said Carter was writing a response and urged him silently to hurry.

It is. Not a good one. Anything about the chip’s abilities that seems unusual?

“Aside from reading people’s memories?” I almost laughed. After a quick hesitation, I answered him.
I can read living people, dead people and places. Is any of that abnormal?

Not wanting to miss his response, I slid out of the second entrance of the room into the servants’ hallway that led to the kitchens.

Yeah, it is. Let me do some research,
came his response.

“Research. It’s the answer for everything.” I nibbled on my lower lip, pensive, and tucked the phone away.

So the sheriff had been correct. The nosebleed wasn’t normal.

Did I venture out and talk to him or wait for Carter to do his research? My goal was to save lives, and I wasn’t expecting anyone else in this time period to know I was from the future. Carter hard warned me about the sheriff, and now, the sheriff had warned me about Carter.

I was almost too tired to process what all that meant.

If nosebleeds were an issue, could the man in this time help me more than Carter?

And what – or who – was in the well? My stomach churned at the idea of discovering the truth, but I didn’t think I could remain here without knowing for sure.

Hearing Philip and John, I darted back into the dining room and sat down at my setting. The men entered, and John’s face lit up the way it had yesterday.

I love that.
I knew I didn’t deserve it, because I wasn’t his real daughter, but I let myself wallow in the happiness of knowing I was the center of his attention.

For now. I had a list of things to do after this breakfast and the storm cleared.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

Seated at his desk, Taylor listened to the storm beating doors, windows and loose planks of wood against the building. He gazed at the ceiling, thoughts burdened by the news he’d learned recently. Fighting Badger had come to him and Running Bear about Josie’s visit, but this was not his greatest concern.

His greatest concern sat in front of his desk, newly arrived during the daytime storms and rescued from his steaming crater, the same way Taylor had plucked Josie out of hers.

“I’m retired not dead, Lance,” he said at last. “Why did they think you needed to be here?”

“Ripple effect. They’re seeing changes that shouldn’t be taking place and tracked it to here and now. Lots of activity for such a sleepy little place,” Lance replied. With a sharp blue gaze and inability to sit still that reminded Taylor of an undisciplined recruit, the man before him was athletic and wary.

“I got it handled,” Taylor said.

“They don’t think you do. Besides, you
are
retired. This isn’t for you to handle.”

Taylor was quiet, aware that whatever he said had to be voiced diplomatically. Pissing off an aggressive man like Lance would only make it harder for him to assess what needed to be done. Lance would shoot first and leave without asking questions. It was the opposite of Taylor’s style in handling time travelers like Josie. “I know the place and people. Why not work with me?”

It was Lance’s turn to grow pensive.

“I have to live here when you’re done. I chose this place for my retirement,” Taylor pointed out. “I’d rather not make a mess like you’re known for.”

Lance flashed a smile. “I’m effective.”

“You’re sloppy.”

“I get the job done. I protect history.” Lance shrugged. “Does it matter if it’s messy or pretty, if I’m taking care of my business?”

“It matters to me,” Taylor said firmly.

“All right, Sheriff.” Lance snorted. “We’ll work together, unless you get soft and can’t pull the trigger.”

“Violence isn’t the only answer.”

“Whatever. What are we dealing with?” Lance shifted forward and rested his elbows on the desktop.

I really hate new agents.
Every crop of new time agents was a little more arrogant, a little less respectful of the worlds, times and people they were charged with protecting. “Carter.”

Lance’s smile faded.

“As usual, there’s no way to tell what he wants. He sent back someone too clueless to interrogate.”

“The traveler has to know something.”

“Carter’s smart, Lance. There’s a reason he’s our number one most wanted.” Taylor tapped one of the posters on his wall in emphasis. “The traveler knows only what he told her, like every other traveler he’s sent back to different eras. I’ve interviewed hundreds of them, all with the same story about Carter.”

Lance tapped his fingers on the desk. “Her. You’ve got a soft spot for women, if what I heard is true.”

“Old-fashioned respect. I came from an era like this one. My mama beat it into me.”

“Well then, I’ll pull the trigger for you, old man.” Lance smiled.

Taylor gave him a warning look. “Not how I do business, and you won’t either, since you’re on my territory.”

“I’ll be good, Sheriff.” Lance nudged back the brim of his hat and sat back. “You know, I thought Carter was a myth.”

“He’s very real. Very active.”
And getting more dangerous with the technology that lets Josie speak to spirits the way Fighting Badger does.
Taylor hadn’t yet decided how to handle that issue, because it meant Carter had embedded sophisticated technology in her head that his people knew nothing about.

What was stranger: Carter obsessed over advanced technology for the brain but hadn’t yet learned how to return his travelers to the future or the times they came from. It had taken Taylor little more than two seconds to assess Josie didn’t know she was permanently stuck here, unless his people decided to return her to her time.

“All right. You call the shots. What’re we doing?” Lance asked.

“Right now, nothing. Watching.”

Lance grimaced. “I’m a man of action not
waiting.
”

“Then this will be a lesson for you. Patience.”

The shutters slammed against the side of his office loud enough for Lance to jump. Taylor sat still, unconcerned, while the newer agent shifted in his seat.

“We can wait for a few days,” Lance allowed. “But if I don’t have progress or something to tell them soon, they’re threatening to send The Mongol.”

Taylor’s hands clenched into fists. An agent taken from the Genghis Khan era, The Mongol was wild, unpredictable and strong, a man of unparalleled violence and strength. Their paths had crossed only once, for The Mongol was normally reserved for situations where absolute brute force – and usually a massacre of some size – was all that would save history from the actions of men like Carter.

Josie didn’t stand a chance against Lance. She wasn’t even a speed bump for The Mongol.

But worse than this was the sense that The Mongol wasn’t coming for one life. He never did. He was coming to reset history, to core the source of the ripples they were seeing in the future, and Taylor had an idea of what that meant.

“Then we’ll have something to tell them,” he said softly.

C
HAPTER
N
INE

It stormed for three days straight. The worst part wasn’t Philip, who pretended to be a half-decent human being in front of John. The worst part was not being able to leave the house. Three days of food, backgammon, cards, war stories by Philip and John, nightmares like that from the first night and vague answers from Carter about what was wrong with my head.

Because there was something. He finally told me that much.

Three days of building anxiety about the well, the sheriff, the days ticking by where I couldn’t change history. I was used to the southern California lifestyle. It rarely rained like this and never for more than half a day. I was active all the time, bike riding, walking, yoga in the backyard with my aunt. I found myself doing yoga twice a day in my room during the rainout to keep from going stir crazy.

On the fourth day, the rain stopped at some point before I awoke, and the sun peeked through gray clouds to find its way past my drapes into my room. The familiar patter of rain on the roof was gone, and I rose quickly, excited at the prospect of leaving the house.

Throwing open the drapes, I studied the world outside, forbidding the clouds from opening up again.
Wait until Philip is gone,
I ordered them. The property was muddy. If Nell wanted to go anywhere, it’d be by horseback this day and not the carriage whose wheels would sink into the mud.

“Miss Josie!” Nell’s call came from down the hallway. “Come quickly!”

I was halfway to the door before I remembered going out in my nightgown was viewed as scandalous around here. I pulled on a housecoat and my boots and left the cozy bedroom I was starting to like.

The memory, the one from down the hallway that slid into my dreams at night, was more insistent today. Pausing, my gaze flickered to the last door. I’d intended to check it out during our time held hostage by the rain, but Nell managed to keep me busy. When not with Philip and John, I was with John, reading in his study or learning to repair buttons and mend my clothes – a task I did with absolutely no joy or skill whatsoever. My fingertips were sore from how many times I poked them accidentally.