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...First, you will ask—Can I?
The answer is—in major events that affect millions of people, I don’t know. Fate is a fickle mistress, and it’s not wise to tempt her strategic plans...
“And should there be trouble,” Bryant countered, “I won’t be having you in the middle of it.” He reined an anxious Pat around to face Tall Tree’s. “Stay here.”
“But I could—”
“Stay put, Callista. Promise me.”
I pursed my lips at him, but grudgingly agreed. Sometimes I hated being a nineteenth century wife.
“I’ll be back this evening,” he said, then kicked his horse to race away with Tall Tree’s.
“Dang primitive mountain man,” I grumbled, as they disappeared into the forest.
Resigned with my impotent lot, I made my way to the rocky creek and squatted down to splash water onto my face and neck. It was mid-October now, and the autumn air was windy and brisk, but I felt feverish and nauseous like I had the last few days since the harvest festival a week ago.
I looked down at my fingers and saw that they were trembling. Either I had picked up a bug, or my nerves were still rattled from the deadly confrontation with Wilkens.
Once again, my thoughts went out to Ruby West, wondering if there was something I could have said differently to convince her to leave Wilkens and return to her sister and people who truly cared for her.
No doubt Wilkens lied to her about them marrying after her saloon contract was finished. If he was serious, why didn’t he just buy out her contract? Why would a man allow the woman he intended to become his wife continue in a life of prostitution?
No, I truly believed that the sad girl was deluding herself. Wilkens was never going to marry her and claim their child. The bigger and more disturbing question was how far the man might go to clean up his illegitimate mess.
I didn’t put it past the monster to even secretly murder her to eliminate his problem permanently. It’s happened before even in modern times. Too many times.
“Oh, Ruby, you foolish, lovesick girl,” I sighed, groaning as I achily stood.
Then again, I had my own relationship dilemma.
Once again, I was seriously considering pushing my return home from Samhain in two weeks to the winter solstice. And if I waited until then, why not wait until next June to make sure I hit the exact solstice as before?
Then of course if I stayed an entire year, why not make it two? Or five?
Or never go back to my own time at all?
All because I was crazy in love with my wild mountain man in this time.
Shaking off the nagging problem once again, I trudged back to the cabin to retrieve the new Winchester rifle Bryant had won in a card game at the harvest festival. When trying it out the next day, I found it even easier to use than the Colt .45.
I set up several targets to blow my anxieties and regrets away. An hour later, I used up all the ammunition.
“Great,” I grumbled at the empty bullet box.
Bryant wouldn’t be happy that I had wasted it all. At least it gave me a decent excuse to return to the town tomorrow for more.
I looked up at the partly cloudy sky and the sun directly overhead. It was pushing onto noon now. Might as well go back inside and pull together some lunch for myself.
The bushes to the right rustled, drawing me up short. Squinting, I focused at the woods, then took a step towards the shadow I thought moved.
“Bryant?” I called.
But it couldn’t be him, since he had ridden Pat to the Snoqualmie village and wouldn’t be on foot.
Another rustle.
I focused harder. Yes, something moved in the bushes, but it wasn’t clear what.
