I didn’t catch my breath until I left the house. The sun dispelled the lingering unease from upstairs, and I took a moment to admire the sleek black carriage waiting for me.
Nell had the reins, and I slid onto the bench seat beside her. She deftly drove the two-person buggy away from the house and into the prairielands. Waist high grasses bowed and rustled in an early fall breeze. They stretched as far as I could see, meeting the blue sky dotted with clouds in the distance. Hills rolled gently, sometimes hiding surprises I discovered when we crested them. Fluffy white sheep and cattle appeared over two peaks, one of which was tended by John’s ranch hands.
Rather than be impatient by our relatively slow speed, I found myself immersed in admiring landscape unlike any I had ever seen.
“It’s so peaceful,” I murmured. “What is that?” I pointed to the six-foot stake with a red flag on its tip at the top of one hill.
“It marks the edge of the savages’ land. Your grandfather owned two thousand acres in this territory, before the government decided to resettle the Indians out here. Your father marked the edges with flags,” Nell replied. “The red men cross the border to reach the road, and they allow your father’s herds to graze on their land in exchange. They share several large ponds.”
“He gets along well with them,” I commented. “Is it like this everywhere?”
“No. The cavalry responds to skirmishes between the savages and gentlefolk regularly.”
“But didn’t we kind of just take their land? I mean, is it a surprise they’re unhappy about it?”
Nell glanced at me. “You best keep comments like that to yourself.”
I flinched, a sudden headache piercing my temple. It flared then died quickly, fading to a distant ache. An odd sense filled me, and I tried to determine what it was.
Memories that weren’t mine. They floated through my thoughts like fragments of a dream that persisted after I awoke. I watched them, mesmerized by the idea of seeing into someone else’s mind.
Historically enhanced intuition. It was the ultimate survival tool, one that gave me insight into the thoughts of everyone around me. Instead of the internet, this was maybe how I found the men I sought. Carter, you are a freakin’ genius.
As I watched Nell’s memories, I frowned.
“You’re dying from a tumor, aren’t you?” I asked her.
Nell’s sharp intake of breath was enough of a response.
“You had two children who died in their youth. Your brother has dementia but your tumor will take you before the dementia does.”
“You are starting to remember,” Nell said.
“No … I mean, maybe.” The memories weren’t mine, but they were clear, like I had read them in a book. I tried to recall anything about John but wasn’t able to.
Empathic memory. Did it mean I only remembered or knew things about people near me? If so, it wasn’t going to be nearly as good as the internet. I’d have to find someone who knew Taylor Hansen and Running Bear.
“Who told you of the tumor?” Nell asked quietly. “I forbade the doctor from revealing it to your father. He has been through enough.”
“You love him, always have,” I observed. “Why didn’t you tell him?”
“Bite your tongue, lest someone hear you!”
I laughed, looking at the open prairie that ran on all sides.
“You came back changed indeed,” Nell said, disapproval still in her voice. “A woman of my station cannot love a man of your father’s station.”
Definitely a different time. I kept the thought to myself.
“What was I like?” I asked. “Before I … disappeared?”
“You have always been very sweet. Delicate. Your father sheltered you, and for good reason. He is the wealthiest man this side of the River, and there are many men who would prey on you or him.” Her memories supported what she said. She was recalling me as a happy child with fondness.
“His money comes from England, from his family,” I said, the images in my mind flowing fast.
“Yes. His father was a nobleman. His elder brother inherited the title, but Mr. John was left a great inheritance by his mother and his uncle.”
“So I have always been … comfortable,” I assessed.
“Very. Spoilt, if I do say so.” Nell smiled. “Your father gave you whatever you wished, except when it came to the man he wished you to marry. There are few men here worthy of the hand of the daughter of a noble line. But there was one, and you opposed the union. You have always been smart and stubborn, traits you inherited from your father.”
Maybe I have more in common with the real Josie than I thought.
“You ran away on the eve before your wedding. Completely disappeared after a huge dinner your father threw. The sheriff and all your father’s money were not able to find you.”
At her words, the memories stopped suddenly. Like there was a wall there. I had no reason to doubt Carter’s brilliant inventions, and yet, I wasn’t able to explain why Nell’s memories ended on the afternoon real-Josie disappeared while Nell spoke of the evening dinner. She had missing time or memories somehow.
“It sounds like I was taken,” I said, frowning.
“We thought so as well. Your father could not bear the idea that someone he knew had done something so foul, so he told everyone you left him because of the marriage.”
“I wish I could remember.”
“Maybe it’s better you don’t. The doctor says he has met many people who are unable to recall tragedy, and he feels it’s better for them that way.”
“Hmmm. Maybe.” I want to know what happened to her. An image popped into Nell’s head. “You blamed … my cousin Philip.”
The memories began to flow again, this time of the blond man with a beard and cold eyes. “Don’t you repeat that to no one, Miss Josie. He has been after your father’s money since before you were born,” Nell said. “Your father spoilt him, too, the son he never had, but he left all his money to you.” The gravity on her features faded. “But, you have returned. There is nothing Philip can do. You are better served finding a husband soon, my child, even so.”
“John … Father said the same,” I said, amused. “I’m pretty sure I can take care of myself.”
“It is not fashionable for a woman to speak her mind as you do, and a woman’s right to land is not always recognized in the uncivilized new world.”
I rolled my eyes and gazed at our surroundings. We were quiet the rest of the way to town. Uncertain what to expect, I was surprised by how busy the tiny town I had seen the other night was by daylight.
“Every landowner and his son is here,” Nell said, anger in her voice. “They heard you were back. Each of them greedier than the last! No daughter of John is going to sully her hands by wedding any of them.”
“Whoa,” I said with a laugh. “You’re cute, like an angry grandma. I can take care of myself.”
“That frightens me more.” Nell eyed the men in town as we entered.
“My god – a real, live stagecoach!” I stared at the lumbering mode of transportation that was popular in the West. It was pulled by a team of four horses with two men seated on the driver’s box. It appeared worn, the wooden carriage dusty and the spokes of large wheels flecked with mud.
“A woman of your station travels by train,” Nell said with some disdain.
Not far from an inn where two stagecoaches were parked was a raised platform with a noose dangling from a center beam. I had never seen a real live gallows before. “Do they hang people here?”
“Yes, Miss Josie, they do for infractions of violence. We are one of the only frontier towns that’s peaceful, for which we can thank the half-breed Sheriff.”
The same sheriff that wanted a word with me. The sight of the noose gave me the creeps, and the warning about who issued hangings didn’t help. “How often does he hang people?” I asked.
“Every Saturday at noon.”
My mouth dropped open. “So often?”
“The sheriff is serious about his duty. He hangs white men, black men and red men, even a woman who killed her husband.”
“Wow.”
Nell nodded seriously. “Your father no longer attends the hangings, but most of the town does. The saloons offer free beer that day.”
Never expected a hanging to be an excuse for a party. “So there’s a trial, right? It’s not just one man deciding to hang people?”
“There are always trials and appeals, unless the crime has enough witnesses or was too terrible to await a trial. The sheriff hangs every man involved in a scuffle with the Indians, red, white, slave or mixed. No trial.”
Any thought I had about wanting to see the sexy sheriff was gone. Instead, my mind turned to ensuring we never crossed paths again.
“We are to find you a new bauble or jewels or finery for a dinner this evening. Your father insists,” Nell said cheerfully.
From gallows to jewelry. It was all in a normal day here. I shook my head. “I didn’t bring any money,” I said.
“He gave me your purse. Find what you like, and we will get it. There is nothing here you cannot buy.”
“How much did he send?”
“One hundred dollars.” Nell whispered the amount then looked around to make sure no one else overheard.
“Is that a lot?” I asked in the same tone.
“Child, please! It is more than most of these men will make in a year!”
“Wow,” I murmured. “Can my father afford this?”
“Of course. It’s pocket change to him.”
I should definitely thank Carter for sending me to John. If John considered a year of a man’s wages pocket change, I understood why every landowner was in town to court me.
In suits, bowties and some with top hats. I studied those we drove by, curious about their dress and mannerisms. A couple of them bowed while nearly everyone stopped what they were doing to stare.
“None of them are particularly handsome,” I mused. I was never much a fan of beards, and most of the men here had them.
“They are not,” Nell agreed. “You can find a much wealthier man when we head to the city.”
I snorted, the defensive nanny endearing. With this many people, though, how was I supposed to find the person I sought? Could my empathic memory process everyone?
“The sheriff isn’t here,” I murmured. “I guess he isn’t interested in my hand.”
Nell gave me a look of reproach. “He is not only poor, but is half savage and proudly claims them as kin.”
“Trust me – I want nothing to do with him. But he’s a lot easier on the eyes.”
“Quiet now, Miss Josie. You must not entertain such thoughts about a man like that,” she warned. “He is lucky the soiled doves take him, but he will never have a wife, especially not one of your station.”
“Soiled doves?”
Nell raised her chin towards one side of the street. I looked and gasped. Women stood in front of a two story wooden bordello, their manner of being half-dressed leaving me no question as to the kind of establishment it was.
“It’s a brothel!” I exclaimed. “A real live, Old West brothel! Outstanding! We’ve got to talk to them, Nell.”
“Enough of your jests, Miss Josephine.” The note of mild alarm was enough to tell me that my nanny was at her wit’s end.
Disappointed yet fascinated by the women of the night, I didn’t take my eyes off them until Nell pulled to a halt.
It was then I noticed the sheriff, leaning against the wall of his office, watching us with hard green eyes. He appeared relaxed, his wiry body robed in worn clothing with patches on his pants and shirt. He was too hard for me to pity, but I wondered if there was a part of him that was bothered by the fact he was isolated from pretty much everyone. I didn’t imagine he had many friends since he was half-Indian and sent men to the gallows every week. His eyes stood out in a face rendered tanned from his time in the sun. He wore a wide-brimmed cowboy hat.
That is one sexy cowboy, I thought, unable to look away. Had I ever seen anyone else pull off the standoffish sexiness and quiet strength? I knew a conversation with him was not going to go well, but there was something compelling about his combination of outdoor ruggedness and intensity.
If he didn’t go around hanging people ... In the sea of men with black suits, he alone stood out. The movement of someone dressed in browns caught my attention, and my gaze went to a small group of natives gathered at the edge of town.
The Native American who was with the sheriff this morning was present, and I resisted the urge to interrogate him about where exactly he found me.
I concentrated on him but was too far to read anything about him the way I had Nell.
“Are we going there?” I asked, indicating a small market at the edge of town.
“Indian and local goods?” Nell shook her head firmly. “We only buy European goods and those brought here from Boston. It’s not fitting for a woman of your station to be seen at an Indian market.”
“Nell.” I sighed. “Please? I really want to go see.”
“See what?”
“What I missed while gone.”
Nell pursed her lips together but parked the carriage close to the edge of town, in front of a tailor’s shop.
I managed to get out of the carriage with some grace and brushed the wrinkles out of the dress Nell probably spent hours ironing. She handed me a pouch that jingled, an indication they thought my sense present enough to give me some money. I observed the downtown area with a smile. It smelled funky, of horses, smoke, people and waste, but I was seeing something no one in my time had.
“Josie, my cousin.”
I turned and glanced at the man who was little taller than me with cold, blue eyes, a mustache and a suit that looked new. He approached, followed by two other men. He was the man from Nell’s thoughts.
My empathic memory kicked in when he was within arm’s reach. I saw his and Nell’s and suspected the empathic memory chip was activated by proximity. The images began flowing when he was within arms reach, and I watched them. I had been fascinated by Nell’s memories, but those that flowed from this man were disturbing: of the time he’d slapped real-Josie when she was thirteen and tried to rape her when she was seventeen. He viewed me with desire and contempt and John with absolute disdain.
Taken aback by the images, I realized Nell’s suspicion wasn’t misplaced.
“Philip,” I replied.
“You look different,” he said, studying me with a frown. “I was worried my ill uncle had been taken advantage of by some … harlot.” His eyes went down my body as he spoke, and they rested on my breasts.
Bad man. The images in my mind seemed to confirm that. He wasn’t thinking about Josie’s naked body but the small frame of another woman struggling to escape him while he choked her out.
“Still beating and raping your servants?” I asked, frowning. Before Philip, it hadn’t occurred to me that the empathic memories would also show me the kinds of secrets and sins that people generally didn’t want known. Or maybe a man like this didn’t have reason to care in an era when women didn’t have many rights.
His gaze flew up to my face.
“Spending your coin at the whorehouse and on wagers,” I continued. “You are no different, either, cousin.”
I heard Nell mumbling under her breath while Philip stared at me. The men behind him chuckled. Finally, he smiled tightly.
“My cousin. Always one to jest,” he said loudly enough for everyone near us to hear. “I missed you, Josie.”
I didn’t want a man like him to hug me but didn’t resist, afraid of drawing too much of his attention. He smelled of whiskey and smoke and held me too tightly, yet it was the memories that made me almost ill.
“Tell me, harlot. What did you do with my cousin?” he whispered.
“Why, whatever do you mean, cousin?” I asked in a syrupy sweet voice and pulled away. “I do believe you grew a few inches while I was away.”
“You will not lie to me when we are alone,” he returned for my ears only.
“I’ve seen what you do to women you’re alone with. There’s no chance of that happening,” I said in the same quiet voice.
We glared at each other for a long moment before he finally stepped away.
“What a grand thing for you to return when your father is so ill!” he proclaimed. Several of the men around him murmured their assent.
“Be nice to him.” Nell all but dragged me back to hiss into my ear. “He is powerful, Miss Josie. In a month, he’ll be the mayor.”
It took effort for me not to roll my eyes. Aware the governess knew the customs of this world far better than I did, I plastered on a smile. “Will you walk with me, cousin?” I asked, holding out my arm.
He took it, and we began walking.
“My father sends his regards from England,” he said as we moved slowly down the road.
I almost laughed but caught myself. His memories told a different story than his words. “Is this a test, cousin?” I asked. “Your father has been dead for fifteen years at least.”
“You must have known the real Josie.”
“I am the real Josie.”
“No, cousin, you are not. And when your father is gone, I will insure my inheritance is ripped from you and you are cast back whence you came. Though if you choose to stay in my home, you will do so with your legs spread at my desire.”
I did laugh at that. It was the wrong reaction, which didn’t quite register until his face turned crimson. “My apologies, Philip. For a moment, I thought you were serious.” I smiled at him. “The sheriff might be interested to know about the woman buried beneath your pig pen.”
He appeared uncertain how to take my words. “That was our secret, cousin,” he said with a look over his shoulder.
I really hate this guy. The images of the woman he killed, albeit accidentally, were forefront in his mind. What real-Josie was doing there, I didn’t know, but she was young and too frightened of her older cousin to speak out. “And I will keep it for you, as I promised long ago.”
Philip was looking at me anew.
“Let’s not fight,” I told him. “My father is ill, and I am not well myself, if you hadn’t heard.”
“I had,” he confirmed. He regained his composure quickly. “I see evidence of your madness in your speech.”
Dick. My gaze strayed towards the market at the edge of town.
“Not there,” he said, following my look. He sneered. “Not with the savages.” The memory in his head made me freeze in place: an Indian girl, little over ten, who worked in his household. The sight of her screaming and bloodied while he held her to the ground …
It was the worst of all the images in his head. Not that him raping his servants was acceptable, but the fact he relished hurting the little girl … I tried to push it away, to stop the images from coming.
A stab of pain went through my head once more in response, followed by tunnel vision and the sense of floating. It took a moment for me to ground myself and pull my mind out of the abyss to become aware of my physical body once more.
“My cousin has not yet recovered from her ordeal,” I heard him saying. “Your concern is greatly appreciated.”
I blinked away the sunspots to see him standing in front of me. I was slumped against Nell, seated on the raised sidewalk, surrounded by a crowd of anxious men kept at bay by Philip.
“Sorry,” I managed. “Just … need a moment.” And to ask how to turn the chip off. Knowing the dark secrets of everyone around me would quickly become a curse, especially since I wasn’t here long enough to right the wrongs I uncovered.
Nell’s memories were agitating me as I tried to recover. Philip and the others were too far away, but Nell was running through every time in real-Josie’s life when she’d fallen, sprained something or otherwise gotten hurt. It was definitely not helpful to have the distressed images of a little girl crying in my mind right now.
“Give her some peace, gentlemen,” the gruff, low voice of the sheriff directed those around me. I sensed him approach without looking up, not too excited to have drawn his attention. “Miss Josephine, you can rest in my office.” It wasn’t a request.
I stalled for a moment, embarrassed to swoon like I was weak and still a little freaked out by all the people he hanged. Maybe there was some damage done to me from time travel, or maybe it was the intensity of feelings and memories that weren’t mine. I felt claustrophobic despite the open skies and land of the Old West.
“Let me help you.” The sheriff knelt and wrapped an arm around me.
His scent snapped my attention out of my mind. Horse leathers, dust, sweat – and dark male musk tainted by a hint of sweetness.
I breathed deeply and said nothing, a little too aware of the warmth and solidness of his body as he easily stood with me tucked against him. I was no stranger to men’s bodies or touch, but this was different. Better. Almost familiar, like his scent, John and Carter. Aside from the fact he was sexy as sin, his eyes were absolutely stunning.
Staring up at him, I didn’t realize I had been leaning into his hard, wiry frame too long until he lifted his eyes to mine. The arresting, light green depths were as intriguing as his scent. His face was shaven, the high cheekbones, a sign of his mixed heritage casting hollows in his cheeks.
No memories. Nell stood two feet from me, her memories flowing freely, but there was nothing from the sheriff’s direction.
He cleared his throat, as if uncomfortable holding me. “Can you walk, ma’am?” he asked.
His tested politeness heightened my awareness and the desire not to sit down with him and talk.
“Yes. Sorry.” I stepped away. “I, uh, am feeling not completely well.”
How long had I been staring up at the sheriff like a lovesick fool? Long enough for Nell to notice. She was frowning fiercely. Her expressions left me no doubt as to the lecture she’d give me later about how a woman of my station was supposed to behave.
I wanted so badly to roll my eyes but didn’t, instead occupying myself by dusting off my dress.
“If you’ll come with me, ma’am, you can rest. We can have that talk I’ve been wanting to have with you, too,” the sheriff said.
I froze. There was a guarded note in his voice, one that told me he wasn’t about to take pity on me, even if I did just almost pass out.
“I think I need to return home and rest, sheriff,” I managed.
“It wasn’t a choice, ma’am.” He offered his arm.
Dammit. I forced a smile, though. “Then I’d be delighted.” If he caught the sarcasm in my tone, he didn’t react.
The amount of people around me startled me. Nell wasn’t joking about everyone being there to try to win my hand, my first day back. Initially curious, I began to sense how easily I would be overwhelmed by the masses, if the floodgates opened and released a crowd’s worth of empathic memories.
And their secrets … I wanted to believe not every man here was like Philip, but I didn’t want to know what else people were hiding, either.
I glanced up at the sheriff when we cleared the crowds. The determination on his features was enough of a warning that he hadn’t lost his resolve to interrogate me. “Maybe you can tell me how you found me last night and why you are so set on talking to me.”
He glanced at me. “Because I think maybe your business is elsewhere, ma’am, not foolin’ a good man like John.”
“Foolin … ah.” He, too, suspected I wasn’t the real Josie. Unable to read his memories, I wasn’t going to pass any test he gave me. Startled by the thought, it took me a moment to respond. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We both have our secrets, ma’am.” He released me and moved ahead.
Who the hell is this guy? He had no empathic memories or maybe, the chip worked selectively. Without knowing for certain how it was supposed to work, all I knew was that it was silent around him.
The sheriff strode down the walkway and leapt off rather than taking the stairs, leading me towards his office at a quick pace. Nell trailed me, the obedient servant in public, while I suspected my nanny had a few choice words to say to me once we were alone.
“Nell, will you please go in with me?” I whispered when we reached the door to his office.
“Of course, Miss. You should have a chaperone.”
Feeling more confident, I walked through the open door of the sheriff’s office. His partner was gone, and a second door propped open led to three cells with iron bars.
“This is like a movie!” I stood in awe of my surroundings for a moment, taking in the roughly hewn wooden desks, wanted posters and the sheriff with his wide cowboy hat and lean cowboy body. “Fantastic!”
“Ms. Nell, I’m gonna have to ask you to wait outside,” the sheriff said, sitting on the edge of his desk. He removed his hat and set it beside him.
“Yes, sheriff,” Nell said.
I turned to glare at my nanny, who had ducked her head and turned to leave.
“Nell!” I hissed.
“People here know I tend to put them in cells to cool off if they don’t listen to me, ma’am,” the sheriff said. “You can spend five minutes talkin’ or overnight.”
Nell fled.
Pretty sure Nell is getting revenge for me stressing her out. I said nothing but pressed my lips together.
“Have a seat, Miss Josephine,” the sheriff said a little too casually.
With a deep breath, I turned and sat the best I could in the snug bodice in what I hoped was a proper sit. I had missed loosening one of the ties, though, shifted twice and soon found myself leaning again to relieve the pressure around my chest.
The sheriff was studying me. “You all right, ma’am?”
“A little tired.”
He looked me over but said nothing else about my odd position.
“Let’s start with what happened a year ago, when you disappeared,” he said, resting his hands on the desk behind him in a stance that was deceptively relaxed. His dark hair was mussed from the hat, and the six shooters he had slung on his hips rested against the desk.
He looks like a real cowboy, I thought, momentarily mesmerized by the combination of quiet strength, handsomeness and low, quiet command. The exotic slant of his cheekbone and chiseled features were straight out of a movie.
“I don’t remember,” I replied.
“Convenient.”
My eyes narrowed. “You aren’t interested in what happened a year ago,” I assessed.
My empathic memories weren’t working. Nor were the historical records I was supposed to be able to access. Without either, it was going to be harder to figure out what the sheriff wanted. Philip’s motivation was clear: he wanted my land, money and me lying dead in a ditch.
Such things meant nothing to this stranger, but he was after something from me.
“You’re right. I’m not,” he replied calmly. “I am interested in how you keep appearing every few months and leaving again. Every time a little different. A little lost.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We suspected the other girls were after John’s wealth. They must’ve heard about his missing daughter and were trying to take advantage. John’s mind is too far gone for him to understand this.”
I listened. “So you want to interrogate me to protect John. That’s very sweet of you.” For some reason, that made me feel a little better about being there.
“Partly true.” The enigmatic sheriff offered a half-smile. “And partially because I want to know what’s really going on.”
I wanted to be the real-Josie for John because he needed peace of mind before he died. With the sheriff … well, it was more of a survival instinct. The man was dangerous and too quick to sentence people to hanging.
“I appreciate you looking after my father in my absence. But I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said firmly. “The doctor will verify I have no memory of the past year. My dear cousin Philip and governess will verify that I have knowledge only I can possess.”
The sheriff studied me, hard gaze never leaving my face. I didn’t recall ever meeting anyone quite this intense before. The silence grew tense and awkward, and I dropped my focus to his desk.
“Taylor Hansen,” I read his wooden nameplate aloud. “You’re Taylor Hansen!” Did Carter know the man I sought would find me instead of me finding him?
“Funny thing, ma’am, the other girls got that same look on their faces when they heard my name,” he replied dryly.
Carter would’ve told me if he sent others back. I didn’t believe the sheriff’s tales about other girls fully. It sounded like entrapment to me, though it did make sense that conniving people would try to take advantage in an era where a woman was defined by her father and husband’s money and status. Itching to text my handler, I clasped my hands in my lap to keep from snatching my phone.
“Who were these other girls?” I asked carefully. “Why do you think I’m one of them?”
“What should concern you more is what happened to them. No one saw them leave town.”
A chill went down my back. Was the good sheriff threatening me or warning me? From his expression, I wasn’t certain. The tension between us was thick enough to make me uncomfortable, and he watched me like he might a bluffing poker player while I tried not to stare at one of the most attractive men I had ever met.
“If there’s something I need to know, ma’am …” He trailed off.
“Not to my knowledge, Sheriff,” I replied. “You found no trace of the other girls?”
“None.”
“And they just appeared at random?”
“From the sky. Like you did.”
I stared at him. Now that made me want to hide in a cell and call Carter. It was one of the rare moments in my life where I was speechless. What was worse: I suddenly recalled why I hadn’t taken a third drama class in college – because I was a terrible liar and an even worse actress.
“Sheriff.” Philip’s intrusion couldn’t have come at a better time. “What business do you have with my cousin?”
I almost sighed.
The moment he stepped foot in the office, the empathic memories began working. I tried not to react to the scenes flowing from my faux-cousin, not when I knew how closely the sheriff was watching.
Why did they work for Philip but not the man identified by Carter? Was the sheriff testing me the same way Philip had?
“My business, Philip,” the sheriff responded, ignoring the wealthy man’s pointed tone.
“Consider it over.”
“For now,” the sheriff allowed.
I rose quickly and went to the door. Dislike of my cousin was second only to fearing the sheriff knew something he shouldn’t about me.
Worse, I had found one of the men Carter sought but didn’t dare talk him long enough to find out what he was doing here.
“G’day, ma’am,” the sheriff called after me.
I waved over my shoulder, anxious to be away. Nell waited outside the office. Snatching her arm, I tugged the woman with me back towards the carriage.
“Cousin,” Philip called.
I rolled my eyes but turned.
“If he bothers you, you tell me. He has no right to be questioning a lady about her doings,” Philip said firmly.
“You’re absolutely right, cousin,” I replied. “Thank you. I will let you know.”
Philip appeared pleased by my admission. Quelling the urge to run, I smiled at him.
“If you’ll excuse me, Philip, I am feeling unwell,” I continued. “Nell will see me home.”
“I will call on you tomorrow.”
I turned away, all but dragging Nell towards the carriage.
“We need to go,” I whispered.
“I told your father today was too soon for you to be out,” Nell said, worry in her voice. “He said you loved to go to town and wanted you to buy something special for your return. I told him, she’s not right yet, Mr. John, you can’t -”
“I’m fine,” I said, glancing back at my cousin. “I hate that man.”
Nell followed my gaze. “You best keep that to yourself, Josie. He’s powerful and wealthy. When your father is gone – God bless him – you will have to be careful of your cousin.”
I guessed that a society that valued a man’s opinion over a woman’s was going to be difficult to navigate, if I wasn’t out of there after John’s death. I was going to ignore Philip as much as possible, and not pry into his mind again. Uncertain what to do about the sheriff, the only thing that came to mind was seeking guidance from Carter.
My attention was caught once more by the crowd at the edge of town. Every fiber in my body wanted me to run home before the sheriff tracked me down, and yet, I was drawn in the direction of the market.
“You’re right, Nell,” I said. “That man will never set foot in our house, once my father is gone.”
“I reckon it’ll take a shotgun to keep him out,” Nell said.
“I think that can be arranged.”
My nanny gave a rare smile.
“Before we leave, I’m going to see the savages,” I said and started forward, determined to learn the location of where I had landed in case I needed to return to the spot.
“Miss Josie, it’s –”
“Puh-lease, Nell. Everyone saw me almost pass out. They’ll assume I’m confused.”
Nell pursed her lips and trailed. I slowed when I reached the edge of the market, taking in the goods displayed on the back of wagons or spread out on blankets. Nell was right about there being a mix: a bearded old man with gold teeth grinned as I passed a wagon bed filled with dented bronze candelabras. Two Native American women ceased talking when I reached their display of leather decorative items. Roughly hewn furniture, lanterns, horse tack, handmade blankets … there was a little bit of everything in the nineteenth century version of a flea market.
The handmade, hammered silver jewelry with polished rocks displayed by a little Indian girl caught my eye, and I did my best to crouch without grimacing to see better.
“Did you make all this?” I asked.
The girl’s eyes widened. She shook her head and pointed to a sloppily woven, leather bracelet adorned with wooden beads that lay among several others of much better skill.
I smiled and picked it up. “It’s beautiful.”
“I sew better than I braid. I make clothing, too.” The girl smiled hesitantly.
I opened my purse and dumped coins into my palm, not recognizing any of them. Standing, I turned to Nell.
“What are these?” I asked.
Nell sorted them in my palm. “Half cent, full cent, half dimes, dimes, quarter, half dollar, dollars.”
“So if I give her a quarter?” I asked, struggling to follow the different sizes.
“A quarter?” Nell appeared appalled. “Ain’t worth the half-cent she’ll charge!”
“I’m not following you at all,” I said.
“The quarter is worth fifty of the half-cent,” Nell explained.
“Ooohhh. That I understand.” I plucked the quarter free and replaced the rest of my change. I held it out to the little girl, whose eyes bulged larger than the coin offered.
Satisfied with myself, I continued onward, the bracelet in my hand.
We reached the end of the small market, and my focus shifted to the horses being herded into a corral nearby by men who appeared to be authentic cowboys.
Amazing.
“Miss Josephine.”
I turned at the unfamiliar voice to see the Native American who had accompanied the sheriff to John’s approaching, the little girl trailing him with a look of distress on her features. He held out the quarter.
“We do not need your pity,” he said firmly. His dark eyes flashed with fire, and his features were taut. He wasn’t scowling, but he wasn’t friendly either. He regarded me as if I were an alien.
“It was not pity,” I said. “Kindness. You brought me back to my father.”
“He repaid us in full.”
“But I didn’t, and it was my life,” I said. “It’s for her, to buy herself a present.”
His hand dropped. He was close enough for me to start to see his memories. He was thinking of his family, including his niece, the little girl I had bought the mal-formed bracelet from.
“If I may ask, what were you doing out there last night with the sheriff in the first place?” I asked. “When you rescued me?”
The man’s jaw tightened. His mind was racing, and I didn’t quite get how all the images I saw were connected. Compared to Nell and Philip, his memories were disjointed. There was no flow, only flashes.
“Your uncle is ill,” I said, tilting my head to the side. “He has little longer than my father, which means …” I trailed off, the images in my mind troubling me. They weren’t his memories as such but encyclopedic style historical accounts of the slaughter I was there to stop. There was no obvious connection between him and the accounts, and the disjointed picture forming confused me long enough for me to realize I was being stared at by more than one person. “Are you Running Bear?”
“I am.”
My mouth dropped open. Carter was brilliant. He dropped me off in a spot where the two men I sought rescued me!
“Miss Josie, we must go,” Nell said.
I waved her off and continued addressing Running Bear. “We need to talk,” I told him.
He stepped back. These images were memories. My eyes … they reminded him of the daughter he had lost several years before during a cavalry raid. She also had blue eyes. The disjointedness flickered, and his thoughts unfolded in a logical flow before once again breaking into flashes.
“You know who hurt your family but told your uncle, the Chief, you didn’t,” I said. “Maybe because you feared he’d talk you out of what you might be planning? A raid ... or …” I wasn’t able to tell the full story or reasoning. The empathic memory was a hodgepodge of facts and patchy memories, some of which didn’t match up at all, as if the recorded accounts about him were different. Almost like his family’s slaughter happened. And then didn’t. The history books didn’t know, but his memories were clearer.
“What are you that you know things you should not?” he managed, searching my face.
“A starman,” his niece said, smiling. “Like the shaman says. You came from the sky and landed in my uncle’s –”
“Hush, Blue Stream,” the man said harshly enough for the girl to jump. She peered up at him.
Despite his gruff rebuke, the girl held only admiration and love for her uncle, her memories of them playing earlier that day.
“What are these starmen?” I asked curiously. “You’ve seen people fall out of the sky before?”
“Yes, we – ” the girl started.
“Stay away from my people and my land,” Running Bear ordered in a voice that left me no doubt what would happen if I crossed him. He pushed the girl away, and the two of them rejoined several natives standing a few feet away.
Starman. How many people had they seen fall from the sky? I burned to ask the girl but feared her uncle after what I had seen in the empathic history. The sheriff’s claim about there being more than one woman sent back to play the part of Josie returned.
I barely knew Carter. Did he purposely not tell me I wasn’t the first? Or was this another of his failure-to-relate-to-other-humans issues?
Running Bear met my gaze once more, and I saw it. The strange spark that lit up his aura for a split second, a sign from whatever crazy stuff Carter put in my head. Why didn’t Taylor glow like this, if he was part of whatever event was supposed to happen on the twenty fourth?
I ached to pursue and yet was afraid to after his warning.
“You, savages, keep your distance,” Philip snapped, waving his cane at them. “You will not sully the daughter of my uncle.”
The natives turned away.
“Your father is too kind to those wild men. Josie, you must need rest to have come this far. You are not in the right mind,” Philip scolded me. He waved his hand at the wares of the merchants around us. “This … junk is not worth your time. Nell, I will report to my uncle you let her dirty her hands in such a place.”
“My apologies, Mr. Philip,” Nell said.
“I know what will please your father to see you buy. I have arranged it already. Return home, and I’ll ensure it arrives.”
I almost revolted at the condescending tone. Nell shook her head, and I relented, following my alleged cousin like a good little puppy back towards the carriage. Unhappy, the ride home seemed much longer than it had going to town. My mind never strayed from the native that wanted nothing to do with me and the sheriff who knew I didn’t belong.
Only when I was in my room was I able to text Carter again.
Am I a starman? And does the person I’m looking for glow? And why did the sheriff say there were three other girls who were here before me?
I shoved it away just as Nell walked in. “Miss Josie, we must get you ready for dinner.” She had a different gown draped over her arms.
Not one to complain, I nonetheless groaned internally. I had been sweating and uncomfortable all day.
“Your father is excited,” she added with a smile. “You’ve made him so happy, Miss Josie.”
At the mention of the kindly man, I guiltily dispelled my internal grumbling about the clothing. It wasn’t right to stress the dying man out, not when I was the reason he was happy for the first time in a year. Still somewhat conflicted about whether or not I should tell him the truth, I stood and let Nell strap me back into the corset and a new gown before we headed downstairs to the formal dining room.