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“You said we’d be leaving at first light, not midnight,” I grumbled. “It’s still dark outside.”
“All the better.”
“If I pretend that I’m having a nightmare and you don’t really exist, will you disappear?”
Bryant yanked the quilt off my body, making me yelp and sit upright. “No. Now get dressed and meet me out back. Or I’ll leave you behind.”
I glared at his broad back for the low blow crack as he tossed the quilt aside, then stalked out of the room.
He was right though. It was wiser to leave before we were spotted and recognized by any of the sheriff’s Arcan buddies.
I still didn’t know why they had hunted and shot Bryant in the first place. Still, after the things he told me about the lethal organization, I knew they wouldn’t take kindly to a time traveler like me.
Groggily, I swung my legs around to touch my toes to the icy floorboards, reflexively curling them in like a turtle ducking into its shell. Wearing only my chemise, I stumbled to my feet, then zombie-walked my way in the darkness to the nearby table. After stubbing my toe in the process and a colorful, teeth-gritting phrase, I splashed water from the ewer onto my face and made my ablutions, then dressed, forcing my angry foot into my hiking boot again, glad that it was slightly less puffy today.
The other members of the household were still asleep when I finally emerged from the bedroom and headed down the backstairs. I felt bad about cutting out on Alice Bautista without offering my gratitude and goodbye, but I figured with the danger my presence sent to her household, my quick absence was probably thanks enough.
Two horses were packed and saddled, and Bryant boosted me up onto the speckled gray and white mare. It had been a long while since I had been horseback riding, but I had done so on several occasions, particularly in countries where motor vehicles couldn’t make it to the rougher archeological digs.
“All right then, Callista?” he asked, reining his brown horse around to face me.
“Never better,” I muttered. “Shall we stop at Denny’s for breakfast?”
“Who is this Denny fellow?”
I rolled my eyes. “Never mind. Lead the way.”
Bryant circled us around the far edge of town, then across the river bridge and off the main road and back into the dense forest.
Light was dimly breaking through the trees now, throwing everything into shadows. The air was still damp and frosty though, and the morning mist eerily slithered and curled around the landscape like hazy smoke.
“What did Alice mean yesterday about ‘what you are’ and something about the full moon bringing out the hound dog in you?” I asked to break the tense silence.
“Where did..?” Bryant shot a hooded look over his shoulder at me, remarking, “You were listening to our private conversation. Shamefully rude, Miss McEwan.”
“Sue me. Answer my question.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and I was about to ask again when he finally said, “Because you wouldn’t like or believemyanswer.”
I straightened in the saddle at this. “Okay, if you think that remark won’t drive me crazy, think again.”
He chuckled. “And I wouldn’t want to be driving you crazy, would I?”
“No, you wouldn’t. I get very cranky and disagreeable.”
“A daunting experience, no doubt,” he said.
“You have no idea. By the way, guacamole is a sauce made from a fruit called avocados. It’s great on burritos and tortilla chips with sour cream. But back to my first question.”
I waited another minute to see if he would trust me enough to share his own secret.
“You believed me when I told you that I come from the future,” I prodded when he didn’t.
Bryant grunted. “You have some evidence to back up your impossible claim. And I didn’t say that I completely believe you. I’m still working out a more logical explanation.”
