Axton studied the leaping flames; he traced his thumb over my arm as he spoke, almost meditatively. “I came to know Cole this past winter. I wanted to hate him, Ruthie, but I don’t. At least, not for the man he is.” He closed his eyes. “But if he ever hurts her, I’ll run him to ground.”
I wisely bit my tongue; I feared for what the future held for the three of them.
But you won’t even be here, I thought next, my mind pinwheeling. You and Marshall will be home in the future and you’ll have to leave everyone here behind. You can’t let yourself care this much about people you will never see again in this life.
And it was devastating to admit that the thought of leaving the past behind was almost as painful as the ache of missing our families in the twenty-first century.
Chapter Four
Montana Territory -June, 1882
MARSHALL AND I WERE GIVEN THE LOFT-SIZED ROOM with low, slanting walls which I’d shared with Patricia last summer and where Marshall had slept alone all winter; we stripped to the skin and curled together beneath the covers of the luxurious feather bed. Marshall rested his nose in my curls, our hands joined atop my belly. I threaded one of my legs between both of his and whispered, “It’s so strange being here. I never thought I’d see this place again in this century.”
“It’s strange as hell. I keep expecting to see Dad and my brothers coming around the corner of the barn,” Marshall acknowledged. Neither of us mentioned we could not stay here at the homestead for long. It was too dangerous. As much as I wished it otherwise, Fallon Yancy would appear someday, looking for us.
“I know. It’s so fucking weird, honey. Is the future we remember happening right now, like in another dimension…what?”
Marshall was laughing, low and soft. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. It’s just that you said ‘fucking’ and you never used to swear.”
“I used to swear,” I argued, and Marshall snorted.
“No, you did not,” he countered. “We’ve both changed since living in Jalesville.”
“But…” I struggled to articulate what I wanted to say, overtired and yet oddly alert at the same time, senses sharpened by the late hour; it seemed Marshall and I couldn’t talk enough to satisfy the urge to simply tell each other everything, to make up for lost time. I finally said, “But I wouldn’t change this last year, even if I could. It made me realize how strong I can be when I have to, that I can do what needs doing. I would never have known.”
I felt him nod against the back of my head. “So few people have the opportunity to test their mettle. Though, I wouldn’t wish the agony I felt when you were gone on anyone. I’ve been so empty, like a fucking chasm of despair took the place of my heart…”
“Marshall Augustus,” I murmured, rolling to face him. “Even when I couldn’t remember who I was, I longed for you. You were always there, safe in my heart. I don’t know how I existed so long without seeing you.”
He kissed my lips, lingering there, with a sense of possession. He murmured, “Now that we’re here and not forced to move fast on the trail, I can think more clearly. I feel like we can plan now, for whatever the future holds. We haven’t had much of a chance to talk about how we’ll get back.” He paused and inhaled before admitting, “It scares me, Ruthie, to think about one of us just disappearing…”
I gritted my teeth; the same thoughts plagued me, the razor-edged fear of being without him again, of the helplessness in the face of our vulnerability. What if he was dragged into the future but I was not? What if one of us remained trapped here, unable to return? And then horror struck an additional killing blow. I choked, “Marsh, what if the baby…”
“Shhhh,” he said at once. “No. Our baby will come with us, no matter what.”
“We have to go before he’s born,” I understood, knowing Marshall could feel the agitated clanking of my heart. “Even if we haven’t discovered everything we’re supposed to, here.”
“But what if we can’t return home until we’ve accomplished those things, whatever the hell they are? I keep waiting to feel that…force field pulling at me, especially now that we’re here at the homestead. Remember the night we rode Arrow out this way, near this place, I mean…”
“I do. I haven’t felt it yet, either,” I whispered. “And will we feel it at the same time? There are so many variables, Marsh, I hate this. Like the fact that we left Jalesville, and 2014, only a day apart, but you ended up in 1881 months after me. How do you figure?”
“It makes me wonder how the future – the present, I mean, back in Jalesville – is moving while we’re here. It seems like it would be moving at the same rate, but maybe not. Maybe no time has passed there at all.”
“Do you think…” I couldn’t make myself finish.
“That we’re destined to stay in the past?” He knew exactly what I meant. “As long as you’re in my arms, angel, I don’t care where we are.” Marshall kissed my eyelids, one after the other, and the scent of his breath was comforting and familiar, serving to calm my rapid pulse.
“We can get by here, if we have to,” he went on. “Technically I have the marshal position until the replacement gets here later this month, Grant was saying. It seems like no one was jumping at the chance to take the territory way out here.”
“Because it’s nothing but dangerous.” I rolled to an elbow, further agitated. “I want you to
