Chapter Fifty
By the time Sam and Annie rode off on their long and uncertain journey, the day was beginning to wane. Only an hour later, they stopped in a sheltered canyon to make camp.
Dismounting, Annie hugged herself as a cold wind whistled through the gulch. She gazed up at ominous gray clouds framing the canyon. "Think it will snow tonight?"
Scowling, Sam glanced overhead. "Could be." He pulled Annie into his arms. "Don't worry, sugar, I'll keep you warm."
She snuggled closer to him. "You know, I miss Rosie and Jim already."
"They're fine folks and I'm happy we were able to help them," he agreed. "But I think you're right that you don't belong here."
"Really, Sam?"
His arms tightened about her. "I didn't want to accept it, but now I've been forced to see the truth or lose you."
She reached up to caress his cheek. "And what about you, Sam? Where do you belong?"
"With you."
She sighed. "Are you really committed to riding south with me?"
"I'm committed to you, woman. With all my heart."
"Oh, Sam." Feeling a welling of love for him, she nestled her head beneath his chin and breathed in his comforting scent. "I'm committed to you, too. But I feel like you're giving up your life for me."
He rubbed her back with his hand. "Annie, I understand your feelings about going back. All I know is, I don't have a life if I lose you."
"Do you really mean that?" she asked in a small voice.
"I realized how much you mean to me that night in Denver. I love you, sugar. Heck, I don't even know if I can make it in your time, but I'm gonna give it a try. Who knows? This might be the greatest adventure of our lives."
"Could be," she agreed.
"No matter what happens, we belong together."
She hugged him close. "Oh, Sam. I love you, too. So much. And I pray you're right."
***
Luckily, the snowfall that night was moderate. The next day, Sam and Annie continued south, stopping briefly to say good-bye to Sam's grandmother and the Cheyenne band. Sam explained the situation to Medicine Woman and advised her that Jim and Rosie would see to the needs of the band from now on; Medicine Woman agreed that Sam should leave with Annie to find his place with the woman he loved. In an emotional moment, she blessed the two travelers and bid them farewell.
The journey back to the Texas Panhandle took an exhausting seven days. Once they were delayed by rain, another time by a heavy snowfall.
On a blustery, cold morning, they had just entered the vast red mesas of Indian Country, when Annie heard the harsh keening of the wind and stared ahead to spot dust devils dancing and tumbleweeds swirling.
"My God, I think that's the whirlwind," she muttered to Sam. Anxiously she caught his eye. "This could be your last chance to turn around."
Sam's reply was vehement. "Sugar, you've seen my world and lived in it. Now I'm gonna take yours by storm. Come on, woman, let's ride!"
Annie's laughter echoed over the plains as the two galloped off into the powerful, wailing wind, and into their destiny together.
***
"We're back! I think we're back!"
Several hours later, Sam and Annie galloped into Deadend. The wind was still howling ferociously, stirring up torrents of red dust, rattling shutters and windowpanes along the old storefronts.
Holding on to his hat, Sam glanced at the deserted main street. "Yep, this looks like the ghost town, all right. But what century are we in?"
"Follow me, and we'll soon find out," she called.
She led him back behind the saloon. Her blue sports car, still intact but covered with red dust, was parked where she'd left it. Oh, she couldn't believe it! They'd traveled back across time.
"We made it!" she declared. "We're back in the twentieth century!"
"Well, I'll be hanged," said Sam, staring mystified at the strange vehicle. "If that ain't the queerest lookin' buggy I've ever seen."
"Cowboy, you ain't seen nothin' yet!"
He grinned. "Let's get these horses stabled."
Both dismounted and led their horses next door, where Annie was surprised to see a familiar, battered old pickup truck. Sam also gaped at it.
"Well, look at this—Mr. Windfoot's pickup," she remarked. "I wonder if he has returned to the saloon. Heck, as far as I know, he and his people may own the place by now."
"And this is his trusty mount?" Sam asked dryly.
Annie winked at him. "Something like that. She's old and temperamental."
Sam looked at Annie as if she'd lost her mind.
They unsaddled the horses and rubbed them down, then navigated through the violent wind to the saloon. Sure enough, as they stepped through the double doors, they spotted old Windfoot. Looking almost precisely as he had the day Annie had first met him, the old Indian sat at one of the tables whittling a bird.
Sam managed to shut the doors against the force of the wind.
"Mr. Windfoot?" Annie called.
The old man glanced up at her, perturbed; then his gaze fixed on Sam. A raw cry escaped him. Appearing as if he'd just seen a ghost, he dropped his work and staggered to his feet, knocking over his chair in the process.
"Thomas!" he cried, holding on to the table to keep his balance. "Praise Maiyun, is that you?"
Sam glanced askance at Annie; she rolled her eyes heavenward and tapped her temple as if to say, "He's touched."
Sam regarded the old man in alarm and uncertainty. "You think you know me, mister?"
Even as the old man struggled to reply, a spasm of pain crossed his features and he clutched his chest. "Thomas!" he repeated in a hoarse whisper.
Sam rushed forward and gripped Windfoot's arm. "Sir, you're looking right peaked. Reckon we'd best set you in a chair."
Sam retrieved Windfoot's chair and helped the old man sit down. Pale and breathless, Windfoot blinked back tears and stared intently at Sam. "It is really you, isn't it, Thomas?"
"Well, I ain't rightly sure," muttered Sam.
Annie frowned at the old man. "Mr. Windfoot, are you okay? And what on earth are you talking about? This man is Sam Noble."
"No, no, it's Thomas!" insisted the old man, surging back to his feet.
"Mr. Windfoot, are you sure you should be standing right now?" asked Annie, grasping his arm.
But the old man impatiently threw off her touch. "I'm fine, young lady. And I tell you, this is my beloved grandson, Thomas, who disappeared into the wilderness at the age of fifteen. Yes, he has grown, and his manner of speech is somewhat different now, but I'd know his face, and the timbre of his voice, anywhere."
Annie pulled a face at Sam. "Do you have any idea what he's ranting about?"
Sam shrugged.
Pulling out his wallet, the old Indian moved closer to Sam. "Grandson, much time has passed, and I'm sure you must have become confused by your ordeal." He drew out a snapshot and held it up with trembling fingers. "But pictures don't lie. I tell you, you are Thomas Noble Windfoot."
Sam and Annie gaped at a faded photo of a teenage boy with longish hair and brown eyes, a boy who could have been Sam fifteen years ago.
"Well, I'll be damned," muttered Sam.
"The resemblance is uncanny," agreed Annie.
"Then you remember now?" asked Windfoot, eyes gleaming with wild joy. "My dear grandson, welcome home!"
The old man threw his arms about Sam. Sam slanted Annie a perplexed glance but didn't resist the embrace, while she stood on the sidelines shaking her head.
At last Windfoot released Sam. "You must tell me all about your journey, grandson."
"Yeah, that'll be some tale," Sam agreed dryly.
"I'm so glad I never gave up on you," continued Windfoot. He gestured expansively at the saloon. "So grateful I never abandoned my cause in trying to reclaim this property for you."
"Oh, my God, the property," cried Annie. "Did the case go to trial while I was away?"
Windfoot shook his head. "No, miss, your attorney secured a continuance after you disappeared." Wry humor shone in his eyes. "I told the judge you likely were off on your own quest for spiritual enlightenment."
"And how," agreed Annie drolly.
"But I remain determined to win back this land for my grandson."
"Wait a minute, mister!" put in Sam. "Are you the one that's been trying to take the town away from this lady?"
"That is correct," affirmed Windfoot.
"You're trying to steal it from her to give it to me?" Sam cried in disbelief.
"It is your Cheyenne birthright, Grandson," Windfoot protested.
Sam fell silent for a long moment, scowling and stroking his jaw, while Windfoot waited anxiously. All at once Sam snapped his fingers and wrapped an arm about Annie's shoulders. She threw him a confused glance, but he only grinned.
"And what if I marry her?" Sam asked Windfoot. "Will you quit pestering her?"
Windfoot considered this with a frown. "You wish to marry her?"
"Damn tootin' I do."
The old man hesitated a moment, then sighed. "In such an event, your woman will become a part of our people, too. The Silver Wind band will drop their lawsuits."
Sam grinned and shook the old man's hand. "In that case, just call me 'Thomas.'"
***
"You're not really old Windfoot's grandson, are you, Sam?" Annie asked.
They sat alone at a table discussing their remarkable meeting with Windfoot and trying to decide what they would do with the rest of their lives. "Nope, sugar, I'm not his grandson," Sam replied with a dry chuckle, "but there's no doubt we're distant kin. I'm looking at this as a sign—a sign that you and me are meant to make a go of it here, a way to make an old man happy—"
"And to establish a new identity for yourself," she finished with awe.
"I reckon you're right," he murmured with wonder. "You know, sugar, you spoke to Rosie about how you felt you belonged in the present, how her and Jim's time was in the past. Perhaps old Windfoot was tryin' to tell us that our time is now."
"Perhaps he was." She leaned toward him intently. "Sam, do you really think the two of us can make it here? Will you be happy to give up your other life—bounty hunting, being wild and free—forever?"
He clutched her hand and stared into her eyes. "Sugar, let me tell you something. I think I must have loved you almost from the first moment I laid eyes on you. But you were so feisty and headstrong, a real handful, and you're right that it took me a spell to accept the notion of having a really strong female for a wife, a woman who would demand more from her man than I was ready to give. All my life, I've yearned for adventure, but now I know you're my adventure, a woman challenging and spirited enough to keep life interesting till death us do part. Hell, I've had more fun these past weeks with you than during the rest of my life thrown together. By the time we reached Denver, I knew I could never give you up. Old Windfoot only confirmed what I already knew in my heart." He squeezed her hand and gazed at her with utter love. "Somehow, you and me are gonna make it. This world is gonna be our new frontier, and I can't wait to explore it with you."
"Oh, Sam." Laughing in delight, Annie flew across into his lap, almost knocking over his chair as she blissfully kissed him.