Come Home to Me (4 page)

“Your boys are complaining that they are hungry, Mrs. Parker,” Mrs. Edwards said in an accusatory voice. “I’ve got too much to do to feed them right now.”

“I was just about to start fixing supper,” Rachel said, meeting the woman’s judgmental stare. “No need to worry. I don’t allow the boys to starve.”

Mrs. Edwards puffed up her cheeks. “I was not insinuating that you starved your children, Mrs. Parker.  Would you like Mr. Edwards to fetch your husband from the saloon? He ought to be here loading your wagon.” The woman’s eyes blazed triumphantly, and she raised her chin in a haughty gesture. Rachel groaned silently.

“As you can see, Mrs. Edwards,” Rachel pointed at the empty space beside her wagon where an hour ago her supplies were stacked, “my supplies are packed, thanks to Mr. Owens. No need to trouble your husband.” She smiled sweetly at the irritating woman. “Thank you for allowing the boys to play with your puppies. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got supper to prepare.”

Rachel turned, and set David on the ground. Anger flooded her, and heat crept up her neck and into her cheeks. She wanted to give the old ninny a piece of her mind, and at the same time hide under the covers in the wagon from embarrassment. Thomas’ whereabouts were obviously common knowledge, and the old bat had said it right in front of the scout. Why this mattered, Rachel couldn’t say. Worse, however, was that the woman had to say it in the presence of Billy and Tommy. The boys were old enough to understand what a saloon was.

“I think I saw your husband talking to Reverend Johnson a little while ago, before the meeting started, Mrs. Parker.”

Hearing the familiar deep drawl behind her, Rachel turned so fast she almost lost her balance. Stunned, she gaped at Jake Owens. Why would he lie for her?

“I’ll go see if he’s still at the church. I need to have a word with the reverend myself.” He flashed her a brilliant smile again, and Rachel could have sworn he winked at her.

“Ma’am,” he said, nodding at Mrs. Edwards as he walked off. Rachel stared after him.

“Mr. Owens,” she called, and took an impulsive step forward. He turned, and their eyes met. “Supper will be ready in about an hour. Please . . . we would be honored to have you join us.”

Rachel held her breath. He looked at her for what seemed like an eternity. Then he nodded, and turned toward town. She watched him walk away, ignoring Mrs. Edwards telling her to have a good day.

Chapter 4

“Reverend,” Jake called loudly before he even pulled open the door to the church. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dim room. The white-collared man was stacking a pile of Bibles on the front pew. He looked up, and a wide smile spread across his face.

“I didn’t expect you back quite so soon, Jake,” he said cheerfully. “How did the meeting go?”

Jake hurried up the aisle to stand before the reverend. He ignored the man’s question. “Okay, you got my attention. I’m ready to listen. But first; who are you?” He stared down into the shorter man’s steely-blue eyes. A shiver ran down his spine. Did he really want to know? The man smiled, showing a row of perfect white teeth.

“I’m your friend.” Reverend Johnson placed his hand on Jake’s upper arm.

“My friends don’t drug me and tell me I’ve been transported back in time by more than 150 years,” Jake sneered.

“No,” the reverend said in his annoyingly calm manner. “Your friends drug you and then frame you for murder.”

Jake cursed under his breath. He looked into the man’s eyes. “How do you know I was framed? I didn’t kill that store clerk, did I?”

The reverend shook his head. “And I’ll clear your name. After you guide these good people to their destination.”

Jake raked his fingers through his hair.  He didn’t know what to think. At once, relief flooded his mind. He hadn’t killed anyone. But who was this man standing in front of him? He didn’t want to explore the possibilities that floated through his mind.

“Why me?” he asked.

The reverend kept smiling. He applied pressure with his hand on Jake’s arm, and Jake sat on the bench next to the stack of Bibles, eyeing them warily. “I offer second chances to a select few who struggle with finding their way.  That’s all you need to know about me. This is your opportunity to turn your life around.”

“How is . . . time traveling to the past” – Jake laughed, not believing he even said those words – “going to turn my life around? I’ve been trying to get away from living the old west lifestyle.”

“Oh, I think you’re mistaken.” The reverend waved his hand dismissively in front of him. 

Jake clenched his jaw. Why the non-answers? Blue eyes like the summer sky suddenly flashed in his mind. “Who is Rachel Parker?”

“You’ve met her, have you?” Johnson’s perpetual smile widened. Jake wished he could wipe the smugness off the man’s face.

“Why even ask since you obviously already know the answer,” Jake scoffed.

“What did you think of her?” The reverend sat down next to Jake, his forehead wrinkled expectantly. Jake envisioned the man wiggling his eyebrows at him in a suggestive manner. How the hell was he supposed to answer that?

“Suppose I believe you . . . that this is 1848,” Jake said slowly, “and Rachel Parker isn’t part of some re-enactment group. Why does she need looking after? She’s got a husband.” Jake lifted his eyes to meet the old man’s icy blue ones.

 The reverend inhaled deeply. “Rachel Parker is a good woman. This journey might test her like nothing before. She’s had a lot of responsibility in her life for such a young lady, and she deserves better. I just thought she could use some extra looking after.”

Jake ran his hand through his hair. He shook his head, and chuckled.

“And I’m the guy to see to that? Reverend, I assume you’re the one who spread those rumors about me, that I’m some notorious skirt chaser.” He paused. The unmistakable look of
well, aren’t you?
spread across the reverend’s face. Jake ignored it. “What makes you think I’m the sort of guy to keep a wholesome girl like her . . . well, wholesome?”

“I have a feeling you’ll do the right thing, Jake.” Johnson patted him on the knee, like an indulgent grandfather would. He rubbed his chin between his thumb and index finger. “Just consider her your extra credit assignment.”

As if a light bulb had gone off in his head, he asked, “Is she from the future, like me?”

“No.” The reverend shook his head. “Rachel is right where she belongs. Fate has dealt her a difficult hand.”

“Her husband is a drunk. I haven’t even met the man, and I don’t like him.” Jake didn’t hide the disgust in his voice. Running his hands through his hair, he bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees. A spider scurried across the well-worn wooden floorboards at his feet.  Abruptly, he looked up and turned his head toward the reverend.

“By asking me to pretend to be this competent wagon train scout, you are condemning a bunch of people to die. Do you realize that?” Jake stood, anger building up inside him. How was he supposed to get a large group of people through the wilderness of the nineteenth century? If he really had time traveled, this would be an impossible undertaking. “I don’t have the first clue how to get from Iowa to Oregon in the 1800’s.”

The reverend patted his back. “I have a map here for you, Jake,” he said. He reached for one of the Bibles, opened it, and produced a folded-up piece of parchment. “This is the route you’ll be following. Study it well. This is a handy little map.”

Jake took the faded brown paper, and stared at it without unfolding it. “That’s it? A map is all you’re giving me?” He turned his head and gaped dumbfounded at the older man. “Are you going on this trip?” He straightened his back.

“No, Jake.” The reverend shook his head slowly. “You’re on your own. You will meet me again at the end of your journey.”

“And if I refuse to do this? Am I stuck here?”

“I suppose I can send you back to your jail cell in your time, and you will be convicted of first degree murder with special circumstances. I believe you understand what that means.”

Yeah. It meant life on death row. “You’re crazy, you know that?” Jake paced the floor in front of the reverend.  He could rot in a jail cell for the rest of his life, or he could die here in the nineteenth century. “Some choice,” he mumbled. “I don’t even know why I’m agreeing to do this.” Rachel Parker’s blue eyes flashed in his mind.

The reverend’s knowing smile widened.

*****

“Mr. Owens?”

Rachel hesitantly opened the door to the barn, and tightened her grip on the basket in her hand.  The hinges on the wooden door creaked loudly. Tommy and Billy whispered behind her, and David held on to her skirt. Tommy boldly stepped around her, and peered into the dark interior.

“Maybe he’s not here,” Billy suggested, pushing his brother aside to get a better look. Tommy elbowed him in the chest, and a scuffle ensued, each boy wanting the best vantage point.

“Stop fighting, you two,” Rachel whispered. She waited for the kids to come to an agreement, which more or less meant that Billy, being older and a bit larger, had the better view.

“Mr. Edwards told me this is where I’d find him.” She pulled the door open wider, and stepped inside. Her heart rate increased suddenly. When she’d inquired with Mr. Edwards about where to find Jake Owens, Mrs. Edwards’ eyes had shot up, and her lips pursed in disapproval. Apparently the woman doubted Rachel’s explanation that she simply wanted to bring him some food to thank him for his help with loading her wagon this afternoon. 

The rumors would surely start flying in the morning.  She rolled her eyes, and envisioned Mrs. Edwards, the old ninny, chomping at the bit to share her suspicions with some of the other ladies in camp. Well, if anyone wanted to talk behind her back, they could. She’d brought the boys along for appearances. Surely even Mrs. Edwards would see that Rachel couldn’t possibly be meeting a man in secret with a toddler and two rambunctious boys in tow. She simply wanted to reward one kind deed with another. Supper was the least she could do for the scout after he’d been so helpful.

Rachel adjusted the basket handle in her hand. She wondered again why Mr. Owens hadn’t shown up for supper at the wagon. She had been under the impression that he had accepted her invitation. She stepped into the barn, pushing Billy and Tommy inside the dim space ahead of her. David grabbed tightly to her skirt.

While Rachel allowed her eyes to adjust to the shadowy light in the barn, Tommy and Billy scurried amongst the stalls like a couple of field mice in search of a morsel of food.

“Here he is,” both boys shouted at once. Rachel stepped forward. She hadn’t seen anyone. She heard a string of curses that made heat rise in her face. Seconds later, the figure of a man emerged from an empty stall, and she quickly suppressed a gasp. Mr. Owens was bare above the waist. He raked his fingers through his hair, and stalks of straw fell to the ground. He’d obviously been asleep. Was he sleeping off alcohol, just like Thomas was doing at this very moment?

“Rachel?” He blinked, and rubbed at his eyes with fisted hands. His speech sounded raspy. He took a few steps out of the stall to stand before her.

Rachel tried to swallow the apprehension in her throat, but her mouth had gone painfully dry. She averted her eyes, and held the basket in front of her. The familiarity with which he spoke her name unnerved her. Tommy and Billy mumbled in hushed tones behind him, pointing at things she couldn’t see.

“I brought you some supper,” she said, and held the basket up higher for him to take.

Mr. Owens stared rather dumbfounded from the basket to her. He slapped his hand against his forehead. “Ah, hell. I must have fallen asleep. I’m sorry I missed supper.”

“I understand,” she said.  To her relief, he didn’t sound drunk. She held the basket out to him, grateful that he finally took it from her. His fingers grazed hers during the exchange, and she quickly pulled her hand back. The brief contact sent a tingle through her fingers, and her heart rate increased again. Confused at her reaction, she averted her eyes.

“You didn’t have to bring me food,” Mr. Owens said.

“It’s the least I could do after all your help this afternoon.” She shrugged. David tugged on her skirts, and Rachel sighed in relief, glad for the diversion.  She bent and swung the boy into her arms, resting him on her hip.

“Well, we’ll be going.” She turned to leave. “Enjoy your supper. And . . . we’re sorry for disturbing your sleep.”

“Wait.” Mr. Owens reached out and touched her arm. The heat from his hand seeped straight through the cotton material of her blouse, and into her skin.  Rachel glanced up, and tried desperately to avoid looking at the wide expanse of the man’s shoulders, or the well-defined muscles in his arms. Jake Owens was obviously a man who’d worked hard all his life.

“You bring me food, and then expect me to eat it alone?” He grinned, and took another step closer.

“We’ve already eaten,” she said, taking a step back to maintain a safe distance.  She raised her chin, just as David pulled on the pins in her hair, which fell loosely down her back and over her shoulders.

Mr. Owens’ smile faded. His eyes roamed over her, and lingered on her hair. His jaw muscles clenched and unclenched in his cheeks.

“How’s the hand?” he asked, clearing his throat.

Rachel flexed her bandaged hand, staring at it to avoid looking at him. “On the mend.”

“Looks like you got a lot on your plate.” He grinned that wickedly handsome grin, and jutted his chin toward David, and then at Tommy and Billy. “What would make you want to pick up the life you know and travel cross country into the unknown, especially with three little kids?”

“Do you have a problem with wanting to find a better life somewhere, Mr. Owens?” Rachel raised her chin. Why would he ask such a question? Didn’t most people wish for better opportunities?

“Seems to be an extreme way to find a better life.” He shrugged.

“What about you?” she dared to ask. “What makes a man want to wander, rather than set down roots somewhere?”

Her question apparently struck a nerve, just as his reference to his brother had done earlier. His face hardened, and his jaw clenched. “Guess I ain’t found a good enough reason to settle down.”