CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

 

 

July 9th, 1906

Oregon Coast

 

AT DAWN, BOTH Kelli and Jesse were dressed and ready to move if they had to. It had been a wonderful night in the large featherbed, making love and then holding each other and sleeping together.

But as the sun came up, they got cleaned up and got focused back on the reason they were in this wonderful hotel overlooking the ocean in the first place.

Kelli set up her notes and stuff at the table in the round corner of the room. From there, even though the sun was still hours from clearing the coastal range and hitting the street of the town below, she could see everything.

Jesse went in search of a back way out of the hotel to make sure Bushnell didn’t sneak out on them for any reason. There was a back door, but it simply led around and back to the boardwalk. Directly behind the hotel was a rock cliff that didn’t look easy to climb, and a forest above the cliff.

His first impression about the town in 2016 was right. It really was just perched on a ledge between the mountains and the ocean.

Since the hotel had no room service or restaurant, Jesse then went to the restaurant, waving slightly at Kelli from the restaurant door. He couldn’t see her through the window, but he knew she was there.

He ordered them both massive fresh rolls, a large pot of fresh-brewed coffee, and some of the most amazing-looking cookies he had ever seen. It would hold them until lunch and he promised to bring the coffeepot back for a refill at lunch.

Then he headed back to the hotel.

“I couldn’t see you from the restaurant,” he said. “And the only way out the back forces anyone back onto the boardwalk.”

Kelli nodded. “Great.”

She was dressed in her riding clothes since it seemed a number of women in this town dressed that way normally. A city dress made no sense here. She was alternating between her notes and watching out the window and seemed distracted.

“I just can’t figure out why Bushnell is here,” she said as he spread out the large rolls that smelled wonderful, like a cross between a bun and a modern cinnamon roll.

“A meeting,” Jesse said as he poured her a cup of coffee. “An isolated place like this would be perfect for a meeting.”

She nodded. “But usually Bushnell went to the people he wanted to meet.”

Jesse sat down and pointed in the direction of the small harbor just out of sight at the north end of the town. “Maybe that’s exactly what he is doing here.”

Kelli frowned, then looked up at him. “I have been thinking about this wrong. Damn it all.”

Jesse stared at her, sort of surprised. They had gone over this a few times before leaving Boise and he sure didn’t see where her thinking of this was wrong.

“Want to explain that?” Jesse asked and then took a bite of one of the soft rolls and let the sweetness melt in his mouth. Butter, a little cinnamon, and a faint vanilla flavor. This was better than even a modern cinnamon roll. Wow.

“I have been thinking that Bushnell was finished with looking for new medals,” Kelli said, shaking her head. “I thought he was done a few years ago. He isn’t. He has never stopped, which would explain his trip here and his trip to Roosevelt. He’s still tracking more of the medals.”

“Lewis and Clark did make it all the way to the mouth of the Columbia River just north of here,” Jesse said, understanding where she was going. “And they went through Idaho just north of the Roosevelt area.”

Before she could say anything, there was a knock at the door.

They both looked at each other. More than likely just hotel staff, but the knock bothered Jesse.

He indicated that Kelli move around behind the door, then moved to the door and just barely opened it, making sure he was to one side ready to move if something came at him.

As he opened the door he got a real shock.

Standing there with his saddlebag over his shoulder was John Simon Bushnell.

Bushnell broke into a smile and said, “Thank god you two are here.”