Journey to Yesterday (18 page)

She was young, he thought, so damn young. He didn’t want to
hurt her, but it would be no kindness to let her go on hoping.

“Daisy…”

“Why? Why can’t you love me?” She flung his hand aside, her
expression suddenly cold and bitter. “It’s her, isn’t it? That woman you were
with tonight.”

Alejandro shook his head. “No, Daisy, it’s me. I’ve never
had a steady woman in my life. I’m a drifter, and I always will be. That’s no
life for a woman. Any woman.”

He extinguished the lamp, then leaned down and brushed a
kiss across her forehead. “Get some sleep, darlin’. You’ll feel better in the
morning, and you’ll see that I’m right.”

She looked up at him, her eyes suddenly clear. “I’m tired.”
She turned over on her side, putting her back to him.

Something in her voice sent a chill down his spine. “Daisy…”

“Goodbye, Rio.”

Laying his hand on her shoulder, he gave it a squeeze. “Good
night, Daisy.”

* * * * *

Shaye stared out the window, wondering what was taking Rio
so long. She had removed her shoes and stockings, turned down the bed, brushed
out her hair. Every time she heard a footstep in the hallway, she felt a thrill
of anticipation, followed by a keen sense of disappointment.

What was taking him so long? Daisy’s house wasn’t that far
away. She drummed her fingers on the window sill. Had Daisy convinced him to
stay awhile?

To stay the night?

She banished the thought as soon as it formed and forced
herself to think of something else, of what she would do if she was stuck in
the past. Not that she would mind, so long as Alejandro was here with her. It
would be hard on her parents, of course, never knowing what had happened to
their only daughter, and she had a few close friends who would miss her for a
while, but life went on and they would no doubt forget about her soon enough.
She could be replaced at work. She shook her head. It was kind of sad,
actually, that there were so few people who would be worried by her
disappearance.

She blew out a sigh. Where was he?

Just when she was beginning to think he wasn’t coming back,
she heard the door open. She felt a rush of anticipation as he came up behind
her, his arms sliding around her waist.

“Miss me?” he asked.

“What do you think?”

He nuzzled the back of her neck, his breath warm against her
skin. “I want to hear you say it.”

“I missed you.” She leaned back against him. “I was beginning
to wonder if you’d changed your mind.”

“No, darlin’, not for a minute.”

She had thought to feel apprehensive, shy, embarrassed, but
all she felt was contentment as he turned her in his arms, lowered his head,
and kissed her. It was the Fourth of July, she thought. Independence Day. And
Alejandro was setting her free.

His hands moved up and down her back, slowly, sensually, the
heat of his hands penetrating her clothing, warming the skin beneath. His
tongue skimmed over her lower lip, a living flame. Her breasts were flattened
against his chest as he drew her closer, closer. He deepened the kiss, and she
moaned softly, her arms sliding around his waist, her hands delving under his
shirt to caress the firm warm skin of his back.

“Shaye…” He rained kisses on her nose and eyelids, on her
cheeks, down her neck, his hands deftly disposing of her clothing until she
wore only her chemise and pantalets. No small feat, she mused, considering the
layers she wore.

Her hands had been equally busy, stripping away his tie, his
coat, his vest, his shirt, until he wore only his trousers.

Their gazes met then, hers supplying the assurance that his
sought.

“I think I’ve been looking for you my whole life,” he
murmured, and sweeping her into his arms, he carried her to bed.

His bed. Every night since he had moved out of this room,
she had imagined lying here in his arms, running her hands over his skin,
through his hair, feeling his hands moving over her body. Reality, she mused,
was ever so much better.

The sheets were cool in vivid contrast to the heat of
Alejandro’s body as he pressed her down onto the mattress, his body a welcome
weight. She ran her hands over his back and shoulders, over his buttocks and
thighs, wanting to touch all of him at once.

“Rio…” She gasped as the need within her grew stronger, more
urgent.

“I know, darlin’, I know.” His voice was husky with desire
as he claimed her lips yet again, his hands caressing her until she writhed
beneath him, wanting, wanting.

A sharp knock at the door filtered through the haze of
passion. She stared up at Alejandro, breathless. “Who can that be?”

He shook his head.

The knock came again, louder and more insistent. “Open the
door, Miz Montgomery, we know you’re in there.”

Alejandro swore under his breath. “It’s the sheriff.”

“The sheriff! What does he want with me?”

“Beats the hell out of me. I guess you’d better let him in.”

“I guess so.” She was about to get out of bed when the door
opened and the sheriff stepped inside, followed by four armed deputies. She
could see the desk clerk standing in the hall, a smirk on his face, a key in
his hand.

Shaye grabbed the sheet and drew it up to her chin. “What’s
the meaning of this?” she exclaimed as the sheriff drew his gun and leveled it
at Alejandro.

“Put your pants on, Valverde, you’re under arrest.”

Alejandro swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood
up. “I didn’t know it was against the law to spend the night with a lady,” he
drawled.

The sheriff grimaced. “Get dressed.”

Alejandro reached for his pants and pulled them on. “You
mind telling me why you’re arresting me?”

“For the murder of Daisy Sullivan.”

“He didn’t do it!” Shaye said. “He couldn’t have.”

Alejandro glanced over his shoulder. “Shaye, keep out of
this.”

“Something you want to tell me, Miz Montgomery?” the sheriff
asked.

She shook her head. “He didn’t do it. I know he didn’t. He’s
been with me all day. And all…all night.” The lie tasted sour in her mouth.

The sheriff jerked a thumb in the desk clerk’s direction.
“Cliff, here, says different,” the sheriff replied. Pulling a pair of handcuffs
from his back pocket, he handcuffed Alejandro’s hands behind his back. “All I
know is the woman is dead and Valverde’s gun killed her.”

“But…”

The sheriff lifted his hand, cutting her off. “Save it for
the judge. He might believe you. Let’s go, Valverde.”

“Rio…”

“Take care of yourself, darlin’.”

She wanted to go to him, to throw her arms around him and
hold him tight. Tears stung her eyes and clogged her throat as one of the
deputies opened the door. Several people stood in the hallway, eyes widening as
they watched the sheriff and his men take Alejandro away.

The last deputy out the door tipped his hat to Shaye. “Sorry
for the intrusion, ma’am,” he said, and closed the door behind him.

Shaye sank down on the bed, stunned by the unexpected turn
of events. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way! He wasn’t supposed to be
arrested until ninth. What had changed? Yet, even as she asked herself that
question, she knew the answer, knew that her presence in Bodie had altered the
past, and perhaps the future.

She had a sudden image of the tears shining in Daisy’s eyes
earlier in the day. Shaye had been certain that Dade McCrory had killed Daisy,
but now…she bit down on her lower lip as a horrible thought occurred to her.
What if seeing Shaye and Alejandro kissing on the street had been more than
Daisy could bear?

Oh, Lord, what if Daisy Sullivan had taken her own life?
Shaye groaned softly. What if it was her fault?

Alejandro paced the floor of his cell, his hands thrust deep
into his pockets, his jaw clenched. Any doubts he’d had about Shaye’s claim of
being from the future had been swept away the minute he heard the cell door
close behind him. Why the hell hadn’t he listened to her? He lifted one hand to
his neck. He had seen men hanged before. It was not a pretty sight, especially
if the drop didn’t break the victim’s neck and he was left to hang there while
he slowly strangled to death, which happened more times than he cared to think
about.

Going to the window, he stared out into the darkness. The
town was still celebrating. The sound of music and laughter, gunshots and
firecrackers, drifted to him on the breeze. The drunk in the next cell was
snoring loudly. He heard the whinny of a horse from the barn next door.

Damn it all to hell! Why hadn’t he grabbed Shaye and left
town the minute she told him about his fate? Even now, even knowing she was
telling the truth, it still seemed incredible.

His hands curled around the bars as he thought about Daisy.
It was his fault she was dead. He should have made her leave town, should have
put her on a stage himself, gone with her, if necessary. Guilt burned through
him. Dammit, he might as well have shot her himself.

Too restless to stand still, he began to pace the floor again.
He had to get out of here, had to find out who had killed Daisy. Dade McCrory
was the obvious answer. But why?

He frowned as he reached the far side of the room. Muttering
an oath, he slammed his fist against the wall. The answer was obvious. Daisy
had come to him for help, and he’d failed her, so she had threatened to go to
the sheriff, and McCrory had killed her to shut her up. With Daisy out of the
way, McCrory would be sole owner of the Queen. Using the gun Rio had left for
Daisy had been a nice touch on McCrory’s part, he mused bitterly. And leaving
it next to the body had been the ace in the hole.

Dammit, he had to get out of here!

* * * * *

Wrapped in a blanket pulled from off the bed, Shaye stood at
the window, her fingertips drumming restlessly on the sill as she gazed down
into the street, unable to believe what had happened. Alejandro wasn’t supposed
to be arrested until August, yet something had caused a shift in the timeline
of the past, and she knew that she was that something. She thought over the
events of the past few days, wondering what she had done that had altered his
destiny, wondering if whatever shift had occurred would also change the date of
his hanging.

She blew out a sigh, distraught at the idea that she was
somehow responsible. And then a new idea bloomed in her mind. What if she had
been sent to the past because she was supposed to change it? What if Alejandro
wasn’t supposed to die at all?

The thought gave her pause. What if she had been destined to
come here to save him? What if she was the only one who could? Others had felt
his presence, but she was the only one able to see him. Maybe they were
destined to be together…

She shook her head. That was too farfetched to be
believable. She was a reporter. She dealt in facts, not fiction. And yet, what
if it was true? Why else would she be here? If she was here…Maybe it was all
just an elaborate dream. Maybe she was crazy, locked up in an asylum somewhere,
and all this was just a drug-induced hallucination.

Turning away from the window, she pulled on her dark-green
calico dress, slipped on her Nikes, and left the hotel.

The celebration was over and for once, the streets were
almost quiet, with only the last of the revelers still in evidence as they
staggered toward home, and only the saloons showing any signs of life.

She moved through the dark streets, her heart pounding with
a vague sense of déjà vu as she walked down Main Street, past the carpenter
shop and the barber shop and the assay office, remembering how they had looked
when she first saw them. She turned left on King Street, passing the Kirkwood
Stable, and then she was at the jail. The door to the Sheriff’s Office was
closed. She tiptoed past, her heart beating faster as she approached the
jailhouse window and peered inside.

And Alejandro was there, just as she had seen him before.
Clad in black pants, a white shirt and a vest embroidered with tiny gold fleur
de lis, he was stretched out on a narrow cot, one arm folded behind his head. A
thin plume of smoke rose from the cigarette he held in his left hand. The room
looked exactly as she remembered. His coat was folded over the back of one of
the chairs. She heard the sound of snoring coming from the sheriff’s office
adjacent to the jail.

Alejandro took a deep drag on the cigarette. Sitting up, he
dropped the butt on the floor, ground it out with his boot heel. He sat there a
moment, and then he stood up and began to pace the floor, his long legs
carrying him quickly from one side of the room to the other. Her breath caught
in her throat as she watched him turn and walk toward the window.

“Shaye!” he exclaimed softly. “What are you doing here?”

She expelled her breath in a long sigh, feeling as though
she were waking from a dream. “It’s exactly as I remember.”

He frowned at her. “What are you talking about?” he said,
and then he knew. Knew why he’d always felt like he had seen her before. “You
were wearing a black shirt…” He dragged his hand across his chest. “It had
writing on it. Here.”

“Beauty and the Beast. It’s a stage play.”

Disbelief and astonishment chased themselves across his
face, and then he swore a short pithy oath. “It’s true, isn’t it?” he said, his
voice little more than a whisper.

Shaye nodded. “You did see me that night, didn’t you?”

Alejandro nodded. He had known from the first that he had
seen her somewhere before, but to have seen her when he was dead… Damn, maybe
his grandfather had been right. Maybe spirits did walk the earth. And he had
been one of them, a ghost trapped in this jail.

“I knew you had seen me,” Shaye said. “I felt it. I felt
you.” She leaned closer. “I felt what you were feeling.” She smiled faintly.
“What you’re feeling now. But it isn’t hopeless.”

He reached through the bars to cup her face in his hand. “I
thought I’d imagined you.”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” She reached up to
cover his hand with her own, suddenly certain that she had, indeed, been sent
back in time to meet this man. “Or dreaming about you.”

“Shaye…”

“Do you believe me now?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said with a wry grin. “I believe you.”

“I’m going to get you out of here,” she said fervently.

“And how do you plan to do that?”

She rubbed her cheek against his hand. “I’m not sure, but I
will. You’ll see.”

She turned her head and kissed his palm. “Just be ready.”

“I’ll be ready,” he said, “the sooner, the better.”

“Good. Do you think I should…” She went still as the sound
of voices drifted on the wind. Leaning forward, she kissed him quickly, then
disappeared into the shadows.

Alejandro stared after her, wondering what manner of escape
she had in mind. Not that it mattered. Whatever she came up with would be fine
with him as long as it got him out of here.

Hanging. Damn. What a horrible way to die. He grinned into
the darkness as he remembered telling Shaye that there weren’t many good ways
that he knew of.

He stared into the darkness, his smile fading as his hands
wrapped around the bars. What if it didn’t matter what she did? She said he had
died on August twelfth. He had a horrible feeling in his gut that no matter
what happened between now and then, he’d be standing on the gallows on that
day, a rope around his neck.

“Shaye.” He whispered her name. For the first time in his
life, he had something to live for, someone he cared for. It wasn’t fair that
he should lose her when he had just found her.