West (History Interrupted Book 1) (27 page)

“I keep getting dizzy,” I said.

“Side effect of traveling,” he explained. “Look at me.”

I obeyed. Taylor’s hard green eyes grounded me once more. I took his hands. “You’re the only one the chip can’t read.”

“That I can’t explain,” he said, taking in my features. “Your nose is bleeding.” He rose and went to the basin, dipping a cloth in the water before returning. “Did you tell him about it?”

“Yeah. He’s researching it.” I accepted the moistened rag. “Thanks.” Running through all he’d told me, I giggled at a single thought. “You’ve probably had ten thousand wives by now!”

“No. Just one.”

“Ten thousand lives and only one wife?”

“Yes.”

Wow.
This was definitely more serious than I wanted it to be. “Taylor,” I started, not sure how to say what I needed to diplomatically. “I’m going back.”

His eyebrows lifted. “What do you mean?”

“Just that. I’m going back to my time. The twenty first century, where Carter found me.”

“Carter didn’t tell you.”

“Tell me what?” I lowered the rag, gaze riveted to the chiseled features of the cowboy who’d just made love to me.

“My agency has been working to undo what he’s doing to history since … well, for a thousand of my lives at least. He’s sent back more people than I can count, but Josie, he doesn’t have the technology to pull you back to the future. Only we do, and only lately.”

“
What?
”

“I know you communicate with him. Ask him. Tell him Taylor told you.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. In a state of complete denial, I couldn’t speak let alone refute him.

“I thought you came back to this era by choice. Nearly everyone Carter sends back chooses.” The look of pity that warmed his features was too genuine to ignore.

“No,” I mumbled and stood. “You can’t be telling me I’m not going home! Carter wouldn’t …” I was close to hyperventilating and caught myself against the nightstand before stooping to grab the housecoat I’d dropped. I fished out the phone and shot Carter a hasty note riddled with typos I didn’t care about fixing. “You’ll see, Taylor. You’ll see.”

Carter wouldn’t lie to me.

“There’s no way back, Josie. Not for you. There’s just
here.
” Taylor stood but didn’t approach me, his wiry form relaxed.

I stared at him, devastated. No matter what I had begun to suspect about Carter, the idea he’d been flat out lying to me about a way home wasn’t something I’d considered.

“I’m not going anywhere either,” Taylor said. “We have a place to live our lives comfortably.”

What the hell did I say to that? “I need a drink.”
Please, please, please answer fast, Carter!

He did. I had just dumped four shots worth of bourbon into a glass when my phone vibrated. Heart pounding, I checked the message.

He’s right. But it’s not what you think. I have a plan for you.

“What the hell does that mean?” I demanded of the phone.

Taylor approached, one hand going to my back. He tilted the screen so he could read it. His expression was considering.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “Taylor, I’m going home! Tell him I’m going home!”

“Josie, you’re not going home,” he replied gently. “And this makes me think you aren’t staying here, either. That chip in your head is rumored to be worth billions. Even Carter can’t afford to let you stay, if he’s got a reason to use you.”

His words warbled. Rather than the usual sense of disconnect, this was an all out break with reality. I was barely aware of collapsing, of Taylor catching me while my mind checked out in the worst way possible.

This must be what Fighting Badger feels like.
It was … chaos. Shadows. Emotions.

Fear.

They were swallowing me, along with darkness I prayed put me out of my misery.

C
HAPTER
F
IFTEEN

I awoke alone around midmorning.

This is wrong.
Last night left me befuddled, ready to weep, fragile. I rested my head on a pillow and gazed at the blue sky visible through the window of Taylor’s bedroom. I reached for my pocket and the cell only to realize I was naked. Pushing myself up, I spotted my housecoat on the floor in front of the mirror where I had dropped it and stood to grab it.

The cell was cold and heavy in my hands. I’d been debating what to say to Carter since I learned the truth last night. This time, when I looked around me, I didn’t see a fascinating vacation spot, but the reality that I might be stuck here.

Are you okay?
Carter had texted last night.

“No, I’m not.” I fiddled with the phone.
How could you lie to me like this?
I demanded, adding half a dozen frownie faces. It was a rare day when I wanted to call someone instead of text, but today was that day I needed to give him a piece of my mind – and couldn’t. Because I was stuck in the past.

There was so much I wanted to say … it was too jumbled for me to sort through. Anger bubbled at the thought of the man who sent me here. Was I so naïve that I let my feelings and the sense of familiarity with Carter blind me to the truth about him? What
was
the truth?

I dressed and padded down the hallway to my room. My breakfast sat waiting in front of the fire, and water dripped from a tap into the warm bath waiting for me.

“I love you, Nell,” I whispered. My body was in desperate need of a hot bath.

Carter texted. For a split second, I was afraid to read it. I waited until I’d sunk into the hot water and started to relax before I checked the cell.

I swear, Josie. I would never hurt you. You have to trust me and what I’m doing is for a reason. I put you in the safest, most comfortable place possible this time.

What did he mean
this time
? I didn’t get the sense that he was a puppet master when we drank together, but I was starting to think he was one.

What bothered me most: no matter what he told me or how deep his betrayal was, I
wanted
to believe him. It was irrational, even for someone ruled by her heart like I was. I couldn’t explain it anymore than how I trusted him from the first time we met and hadn’t questioned his motives about sending me here.

There was something about Carter … something that made me want to place my faith in him blindly.

I can’t trust you if you keep lying to me,
I responded.

At least he was waiting for my texts today. His answer was fast.

“
I didn’t know how else to get you on board with what I’m doing
,” I whispered his response aloud. “
I’m sorry. Truth from here on out
.”

Even if I believed him, did it matter if he told me the truth now? He had trapped me in the past, where I’d made a series of decisions based on temporary circumstances. Like marrying Taylor. It was probably the smartest choice given the alternative, but when he realized I wasn’t ready to love anyone …

Or maybe it didn’t matter. The role of a woman in this time period was restricted enough that I needed either a husband like Taylor or a father like John.

Overwhelmed once more, I hid the phone under my housecoat. Nell was shuffling around in the bedroom. I was kind of grateful for her sorrow; it kept her from hanging around and nagging the way she usually did.

The scent of ham and fresh bread reached me. Without waiting for my nanny, I climbed out of the tub, dried off and put on my housecoat, determined to enjoy breakfast before being strapped into another girdle.

I ate everything. My appetite was gone, trapped somewhere in the darkness I went through last night, and anxiety driving me to eat. Finishing the food, I stared into space. My thoughts were leaden, murky.

“You will want to visit your father’s grave this morning, I believe?” Nell still wore black. Her eyes were red rimmed and her features pale.

Graveyard. The unhappy spirit whose whispers disturbed me at John’s funerals might reveal what happened to the first woman sent back in time.

Did I want to solve this mystery anymore?

Yes.
I wasn’t sure why, but I needed to know. I was in danger, and I couldn’t take it as lightly as I had before. There was no easy way out of here.

“Yes,” I replied. “I think I do.”

Nell strapped me into my black gown once more. Usually I barely tolerated the ordeal, but I bore through it in silence this time, aware that I needed to get used to it.

“I’d like to go alone, Nell,” I told her gently.

“Yes, Miss, I thought you might.” Nell’s faint smile was watery.

I felt bad for her. If nothing else, Taylor being here instead of Philip meant she’d live out the rest of her life comfortably. There also might be peace on this little piece of the frontier with him working to bridge the locals and natives.

The morning was cooler than I expected when I stepped outside. I rarely saw the servants of the house; the small army worked in general obscurity. As if needing to catch up after the storms, there were no less than eight men and women hanging linens and clothing on long clotheslines stretching behind the house. A cool fall breeze rustled my dress as I watched the servants pin new laundry up or fold dried laundry.

None of them glanced my way, and I frowned, recalling my former suspicion about someone in the house being behind the murders.

Turning away, I walked towards the small hill that marked the graveyard. I wasn’t a melancholy person by nature, and the fresh air, wide-open prairielands and beautiful grounds left to me by John cheered my spirits. I lifted my skirts as I reached the dirt trail leading to the wrought iron gate surrounding the cemetery.

I paused at the fence, a weird sense coming over me, the idea that I’d be buried here, too. Shaking off the dark thought, I opened the gate and walked along the cobblestone path towards John’s grave.

As with the first time I visited, the loudest of the whispers was also the unhappiest. It distracted me when I wanted to tune into John’s beautiful memories. Trying to ignore it did nothing to quiet the miserable member of the dead haunting the graveyard, and I relented.

Kneeling beside the patch of grassy earth where no grave was marked, I closed my eyes and listened.

My breath caught immediately. The same nightmare I’d been having since I arrived – fire, shadows, voices, blood – emanated from the unmarked grave as well. The visions weren’t any clearer, but something else was.

Pleasant memories like John’s were mixed in with the scary ones. The incredible bond and love between father and daughter stranded on the frontier. Real-Josie and John had traveled together to see the natives, to town, to the wild lands of the west and the civilized east.

I saw why John wanted so much for me to be the daughter he lost. They hadn’t left each other’s sides since the death of her mother when she was around eleven. Josie was his source of joy and happiness, and he was hers.

Tears blurred my eyes as I typed a note to Carter.
I found the real Josie.
I didn’t know what happened to her, aside from the shadowy, sorrowful memories that linked her grave to the room down the hallway.

Did I want to know? It was clear something horrible had occurred in the house. The idea that her killer, and that of the other Josies, was hidden among the servants returned.

I needed to know, because I had to have a chance not to end up in an unmarked grave or at the bottom of the well.

I climbed to my feet and paused, sensing … someone. It was the same odd presence that tickled my instincts at Taylor’s the night his cabin burnt to the ground. It wasn’t the man Fighting Badger had tortured and killed; it had to be the shadowy figure following the native.

“Talks to Spirits.” There was a note of something in his voice that made the hair on the back of my neck rise.

I turned – and gasped. Fighting Badger’s clothing was torn, and he was bloodied. “What’s wrong?” I asked immediately and crossed to the fence dividing us from one another.

“There was another man like the first,” he said. “Someone who came to find you and do harm. I stopped him and tried to bury him with the first man.” He shifted. His mind was its usual tangled mess, but I glimpsed his twin being dragged away while he watched.

“What happened?”

“They took my brother.”

“Who did?”

“The men who found the bodies.” His gaze went to his feet. “I tried to stop them. I killed three before Running Bear told me to run.”

“What men?” I whispered. The vision in his head told me before he spoke.

“White Men. Settlers. They plan on hanging him because of what I did.”

I gazed at him. His distress was tangled with his darkness, and it struck me that he had come to me for the reason his brothers both hinted at: he had no one else. As far as the natives and townspeople knew, he didn’t exist.

It wasn’t just my desire not to see a good man hanged that propelled me to act. It was the knowledge that I didn’t know if I could handle the dark mystery awaiting me at the end of my wing after everything that happened the past two days.

Taylor hanged men on Saturdays, which gave us two days to help Running Bear, two days until …

The twentieth fourth. Instincts clamoring, I exited the cemetery. “We have to tell Taylor,” I said and hurried by him.

“What do I do?”

I stopped. The angry side of me wanted to tell him to drink his medicine. He’d killed an unknown number of people. If anyone hanged, it should be him.

But I couldn’t. He had killed two men to protect me, however misguided that was, which made me at least partially responsible. Coupled with the knowledge he was mentally ill and exiled to die at the age of ten, I wasn’t able to summon any kind of condemnation.

“Go to your cave,” I answered. “Don’t let anyone see you, and don’t leave until Taylor or I come find you.” Without waiting for his response, I hiked up my skirts and ran back to the house and into the foyer. “Nell!” I called.