Between Two Worlds (17 page)

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Authors: Stacey Coverstone

BOOK: Between Two Worlds
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“Is that so?” That tidbit drew Delaney’s attention back to the
conversation. Before she could stop herself, she yawned.

“Are you tired, dear?” Charlotte asked.

“I guess I am. It’s been one of those days.” She yawned again and
then drained the glass of lemonade. “It’s been real nice chatting with you,
Charlotte. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll head up to my room and take a
short nap before dinner. I’m suddenly quite exhausted. Thanks for sharing your
stories and for the information about Mrs. O’Reilly. She must have been a
fascinating lady.”

Charlotte stood up and took Delaney’s empty glass from her.
“You’re welcome. I’ve enjoyed our talk, too. I hope we can do it again
sometime. You can tell me more about your family. I’ll knock on your door to
let you know when dinner’s ready so you don’t sleep through it again.” She
grinned.

“I’d appreciate that. I’d hate to miss another one of your
delicious meals.”

Charlotte’s mouth expanded into a grateful smile.

Delaney sensed Charlotte staring after her as she left the kitchen.
While she made her way to the foyer, she heard the oven door open and close and
the enticing smell of chocolate drifted out and tickled her nose. Slowly
treading up the staircase, she stopped and tilted her head. Charlotte was
humming.

Thirteen

The small buggy, drawn by the elegant Morgan, came to a stop in
front of the boarding house. The carriage had a fold-down back and was built to
carry only two passengers. It squeaked when Gabriel stepped out. He glanced at the
porch. Delaney sat in a rocker talking with a man sporting a full moustache and
a fine set of clothes. Their voices carried out to the street as they stood and
shook hands.

“Have a safe journey, Mr. Wister. I’ll look forward to reading
your novel one day,” Delaney said.

“Thank you, Miss Marshall. It’s been a pleasure meeting you. I’ve
enjoyed our conversation.” The gentleman tipped his hat and marched down the
steps. He nodded at Gabriel and then strutted toward town with a suitcase
swinging from his hand.

Delaney sashayed down the stairs, went straight to the horse and
nuzzled Lady Godiva’s nose. “Good morning, Gabriel.”

“Mornin’. You look very pretty, as usual.”

“Thank you.” She wore a light blue shirt-waist which complimented
her dazzling blue eyes, and a brown skirt with a wide leather belt.

“Who was that?” he asked, his eyes plastered to the novelist’s
back.

Her gaze followed his. “That’s Mr. Wister. He’s going to be a
famous fiction writer someday. You met him at breakfast the other day. He’s
leaving this morning to catch the early stage to Tucson.”

“Oh, that’s right. I’d forgotten. I only had eyes for you that
morning.”

She blushed and grinned. “Is this your buggy?” she asked, walking around
and admiring it.

He sidled up next to her. “No. I rented it from Ike for the day. I
suppose it looks very old fashioned to you.”

“It
is
old fashioned, and I can’t wait to ride in it.”

His eyes roamed over her body. He’d been up for hours watching the
clock and waiting for the time to come when he’d see her again. It had been a
mistake not to visit her last night. Yesterday, the afternoon had dragged on as
he’d tried to do some reading. His only distraction from thinking about her had
been when a cowboy came in with a broken hand that needed to be set. He’d
missed her when he had dinner alone at the café. Then at the end of the day, as
he’d crawled into the single bed in the back room of his clinic, a deep ache had
pierced his heart like a knife had been put through it. He’d only known the
woman a short time, but he suffered when he wasn’t around her.

Now here she was looking as pretty as the day was long. He was
anxious to spend the entire day with her. He rubbed his hands together. “Are
you ready for a nice drive and a picnic?” He could hardly wait to feel her snuggling
close beside him.

“I sure am. Something smells good.” She spied the wicker basket on
the floor of the buggy and stuck her nose in and sniffed.

“Donovan had his cook whip up some traditional picnic fare for us.
I hope you like fried chicken, slaw, tortillas, sliced tomatoes, and cinnamon
and sugar apples.”

“Sounds mouth-watering. The cook knows how to pack a lunch. Did
you happen to tell Donovan I still want to talk to him?”

“No, but he was very interested to learn we were spending the day
together.”

“Sure he was,” Delaney retorted. “If you keep me busy, I won’t be
bugging him about the bridge.”

Gabriel smiled, but declined to comment. Bugging him? Her unique
manner of speech continued to amuse and intrigue him. But the last topic he
wanted to discuss today was that bridge, real or imaginary. It was the thing that
would take her away from him, and that was something he wasn’t prepared for
yet. He offered his hand as she stepped into the carriage. He snatched up a blanket
that lay on the seat. “I’ll toss this over the basket so it won’t be in your
way.”

“I don’t mind holding it.” She smoothed her skirt under her and
placed the folded blanket on her lap. “Where are we going?” she asked, once she
was settled.

“It’s a surprise.” Gabriel jogged around to the other side. The
buggy squeaked again when he settled his weight into it. Taking up the reins,
he clicked his tongue and said, “Walk on, Lady.” The Morgan started at his
command. Gabriel turned the horse in a semi-circle and they headed south, passing
by the schoolhouse and church.

“When was the last time you went on a picnic?” Delaney asked, as
she lifted her face to the sun. Shutting her eyes, she basked in the heat that
warmed her cheeks.

“Can’t remember. Probably when I was a child.”

Her eyes flew open, and she blinked. “Really? You haven’t taken a
lady friend on a picnic before?”

“No.  I haven’t had a lady friend in a while.” It was close
quarters there in the buggy, and he nonchalantly moved his leg so that it
touched hers. She didn’t seem to mind, or if she did, she didn’t show it. He
noticed she didn’t move her leg either, or scoot away. Aroused by her touch, he
felt his pulse begin to race.

“Mmmm. Then I feel privileged,” she said, referring back to the
picnic comment.

The road narrowed considerably once they left the Phoenix city
limits. “Trot!” Gabriel ordered the horse. The buggy lurched when Lady Godiva
kicked up her heels. As Delaney swayed and jiggled with the bouncing buggy,
Gabriel saw how her gaze drifted over the landscape. He looked at it as she
must be seeing it. The rocky desert terrain was dotted with barrel cactus,
mescal, and the uninviting thorny chollo cactus. There were some adobe ruins and
abandoned shacks scattered along the trail. Several miles out, the topography
began to change. Mountains jutted up in the distance, and terracotta-colored
hills—dry, except for clumps of sagebrush—rolled across the horizon like waves.
Cottonwood trees and mesquites became abundant, as well as pretty ocotillo
cactus, which were covered in sharp thorns but were bright with scarlet
blossoms. To him, the southwestern landscape was a fascinating mixture of
brilliant colors, textures, light and shadow.

He turned west off the main road, and they traveled twenty more
minutes. It was apparent Delaney heard the rush of water before she saw it.
“Are we at the river?” She leaned, trying to peer through a clump of
cottonwoods while holding on to the side. “We are!”

Gabriel steered the horse to a spot near a large mesquite. It was
a handsome shade tree to sit under on the banks of the South Salt.

“I thought I’d show you a different part of the Salt River. I know
how much you enjoy the water, but I want you to promise not to jump in this
time.” He winked. It was fun to tease her.

“I promise,” she said, crossing her heart. “It’s beautiful,
Gabriel. What a perfect spot for a picnic.” She attempted to dismount before
he’d brought the buggy to a complete stop.

“Whoa,” he told the horse. Lady Godiva stopped on a dime, causing
Delaney to lose her hold on the handrail and tip sideways. He snaked his hand
around her waist. “Hang on,” he laughed. “Can’t have you falling out and
scraping your pretty self up so early in the day.”

She laughed, too, as he reeled her in. His hand and protective arm
remained around her waist. “At least I’m with the one man who can doctor me if
I hurt myself. You brought your medical bag I presume?”

He bent to tap the black bag at his feet. “I never leave home
without it.”

“Hey! That was a very popular ad campaign for American Express
traveler’s checks some years back. It ran on TV for years.”

He shook his head and grinned. “I assume traveler’s checks and TV
are more of the interesting things that are part of the future, like the
cellular phone, which I’m sure you don’t have time to explain to me right now.”

“That’s right.” She returned the grin. “I could literally spend
weeks telling you about all the inventions and technological strides that have
been made over the past hundred and twenty-four years. It would blow your
mind.”

“I’m not sure what either technological or blowing my mind means,
but I know I’d quite enjoy spending several weeks with you and listening to you
talk.” He jumped out of the buggy and tied the mare to the tree. The horse
promptly lowered her head and began nibbling at the sparse grass growing at the
base of the mesquite. “Let me help you out.” He walked to the other side of the
buggy and raised his arms. Delaney was like a feather slipping into them. He
lowered her to the ground by the waist. When their eyes met, a current as
strong as electricity ran up and down his spine.

This woman doesn’t know what she does to me!

Delaney tossed the blanket over her arm. As she chose a picnic
spot under the tree which overlooked the river, Gabriel lifted the basket from
the floor of the carriage and followed her like a puppy. She spread the blanket
out and sat down with her feet folded under her legs. He put the basket down
and joined her on the blanket.

She gazed out over the rushing river. “This is a lovely place,
Gabriel. Thank you for bringing me here. Do you travel this way often?”

“Occasionally. I’ve made calls to a couple of families who live
down the road a few more miles. The Pimas don’t live far from here either.”

Her face lit up. “Oh! I’d love to visit that tribe and see how
they live. I’d like to see He Who Fights Bravely again.”

“Are the Pimas still around in 2012?” he asked, flipping up the
basket lid. He lifted out two mason jars of cold tea, opened the lids, and
handed one to her.

“Thanks.” She took several gulps. The dusty trip had obviously
made her thirsty. “I honestly don’t know. There are a lot of tribes in Arizona,
but it’s not something I was too interested in…before. I was always too busy
with my career to pay much attention. It’s something I mean to correct when I
go back.”

Gabriel ignored the reference to going back. He set out the picnic
food, utensils, and two china plates, which he began to fill. He handed her a
plate and she licked her lips in anticipation.

“Looks delicious.” She took a bite of chicken and continued
talking about her world. “Where I come from, many Native Americans earn a
living selling jewelry, baskets or artwork, but a lot of the tribes also own
gambling casinos and resorts.”

“Why do you call the Indians Native Americans?” He ripped off a
chunk of tortilla with his teeth.

“It’s not PC to call them Indians.”

“PC?”

“Politically correct. There are certain words people in my time
period get criticized for using, such as the word Indian. I don’t know how it
all started. I suppose some politician decided the word was a derogatory term,
and Native American became the term we all use now. It makes sense to me. After
all, they were native to the U.S.”

“Interesting.” Gabriel ate some slaw and tomatoes before biting
into a crispy chicken thigh. He wiped his mouth on a napkin.

“I think I’m going to do some research on the Pimas when I get
home,” Delaney said, continuing to reflect. “I want to see what they’re doing
and how they’re faring in modern-day Phoenix.”

He frowned. “I wish you’d stop talking about when you go home.”

She searched his features. “I’m sorry, but we both must face
reality. No matter how much we like each other, you know I have to go back. As
soon as I can corner Donovan and get some straight answers out of him, I’ll be crossing
that bridge back into 2012. That’s where my life is. Where my career is.”

“What if that bridge never reappears?” he asked. “Have you thought
about that?  Or are you too obstinate to consider that possibility?”

She stabbed some cinnamon and sugar apple slices with her fork and
set her jaw stubbornly. “No. That’s not even a consideration. Donovan will make
it happen. I’ll force him if I have to. He’s in cahoots with Sam McKinney. I
just know it. That’s all I could think about last night before I went to
sleep.”

Gabriel pinned her with a thoughtful gaze. “That was
all
you
thought about?”

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