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Authors: Pamela BAUER

Mail Order Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance) (22 page)

BOOK: Mail Order Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance)
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Hannah kissed him tenderly on his cheek. “I think Gabby was right. We fit.”
Wood smiled lazily. “You are one bold lady, Mrs. Harris.” He kissed her nose. “I was wondering how I was going to be able to fall asleep tonight, but after that...” He sighed contentedly.
She ran her hands over his damp back. “Sleep? Why Mr. Harris, have you forgotten what night this is? There’s no such thing as sleep on a wedding night.”
WOOD AWOKE EARLY the next morning, although he wasn’t sure he had even been asleep. It had been a wonderful night with Hannah: He raised himself up on one elbow and stared at the lovely picture she made next to him, her blond curls fanned out on the pillow.
He glanced at the clock beside the bed. When he had made an appointment with Madame Duvalee, he had never expected that this morning he would be lying beside Hannah in her bed. As much as he wanted to stay with her, he knew that if he were going to talk to the psychic, he needed to go now, for she would be leaving town by the end of the day.
He carefully rolled off the bed and tugged on his pants. Then he climbed the steps to the loft, grimacing as each riser creaked under his weight. He changed out of the formal wear and into a pair of jeans. As soon as he was dressed, he headed downstairs.
As he expected, Gabby waited for him in the kitchen. “You’re still going to go?”
Wood nodded.
“I thought that since you and Hannah...” A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“You know?”
“I’m a light sleeper and the stairs creak.”
“You were right, Gabby. She doesn’t hate me.”
She flung her skinny arms around him in a hug of joy. “Didn’t I tell you the two of you would be a perfect match?” She pulled back and studied his face. “So why are you going to see Madame Duvalee?”
“Don’t you see? Now that Hannah and I are married, more than ever I need to know how I got here. If she is a true psychic, as the paper says, then I have to talk to her.”
Gabby looked uneasy. “I suppose you’re right,” she told Wood, although he could see that she really didn’t agree with him.
“Are you going to let me take your car?”
“Of course.” She walked over to the cupboard and pulled out a set of keys. “Be careful that no one sees you.”
“I’m not driving into Stanleyville,” Wood reminded her, tossing the keys into his pocket.
“I know, but you’ll be on county roads.”
“I will drive slowly,” he assured her, smiling to himself as he recalled one of the lessons Gabby had given him and the thrill he had experienced to have so much power at his fingertips.
“What do I tell Hannah when she finds you’re not here this morning?” Gabby asked.
“That I had an errand to run,” Wood answered, then blew her a kiss on his way out the door. “See you in a couple of hours.”
 
WHEN HANNAH AWOKE and found herself alone in the double bed, she wondered if she had dreamed that Wood had spent the night with her. Then she saw her nightgown in a heap on the floor, and she knew that the aches in her muscles had nothing to do with work. She and Wood had spent a good portion of the night making love in ways Hannah had never dreamed possible. The memory sent a rush of warmth through her.
So where was he? she wondered. When she glanced at the clock, she saw a small foil box on the nightstand. Circling the package was a gold ribbon that had a tiny wedding bell in its bow.
Hannah carefully undid the wrapping and opened the box. Inside was a miniature locket. Engraved on the back were the words “To Hannah from Wood” along with the date of their wedding.
Hannah’s heart swelled with emotion. He had bought her a wedding gift, yet she had given him nothing. Today she would remedy that. First, she needed to see him.
It was with a spring in her step that she showered, dressed and hurried downstairs. Expecting to find Wood in the kitchen, she was disappointed to see only Jeremy and Gabby.
“You look happy,” Gabby commented, exchanging a conspiratorial glance with Jeremy.
“I am happy,” she confessed with a grin, then poured herself a cup of coffee.
“Did you like our surprise?” her son asked as she sat down at the table. “Gabby made the cake but I helped her frost it.”
Hannah nearly blushed as she remembered what had happened as she and Wood had eaten the confection. “It was lovely.”
Jeremy caught her totally off guard with his next question. “Now that you’re married, will I get to change my name to Harris?”
Hannah glanced at Gabby, as if she should have the answer. “I guess I hadn’t thought about it until now,” Hannah answered honestly.
“I think it’d be kinda cool to be Jeremy Harris. Then everyone at school would know I have a father.”
Hannah was at a loss for words. Although she knew Jeremy was fond of Wood, she hadn’t expected that he’d view their marriage as permanent. After all, he knew about the provisions of the will. It was an unsettling thought, especially when Hannah realized that she, too, was thinking her marriage could be permanent.
She wasn’t even sure how Wood truly felt about her. How could she know if he planned to adopt Jeremy as his son? Just because he had made passionate love to her didn’t mean he would stay forever.
“You’d better eat your breakfast and get to your chores,” Gabby advised Jeremy.
“Where is Wood, anyway?” Hannah finally asked.
“He’s not here.”
“What do you mean he’s not here?”
“He’s not
gone
, if that’s what’s put that look of horror on your face,” Gabby answered. “He’s just not here at the moment.”
Hannah relaxed. “You mean he’s outside.”
“Not exactly.” She was saved from having to answer by the ringing of the telephone. Gabby scurried to answer it. Hannah listened to her end of the conversation.
“Oh, no.” A pause. “Okay.” Another pause. “Uh-uh. I understand.” Then still another pause. “We’ll go find out.”
When Gabby hung up the receiver, her cheeks were pale.
“What’s wrong?” Hannah immediately asked.
“That was my friend Mavis from Spring Valley. She said she just saw Red Murphy handcuff Wood and take him away in his car.”
Chapter Thirteen
“T
his doesn’t make any sense. Why on earth would Red arrest Wood?” Hannah asked Gabby as the pickup kicked up a trail of dust on the dirt road leaving the farm.
Gabby sat wringing her hands together, wondering if she should tell Hannah about the forged birth certificate or if she should let Red be the one to break the news. For Gabby was certain that the reason Red had taken Wood in was because he had somehow found out about their little adventure into the clandestine side of life.
“Do you know why Wood was in Spring Valley in the first place?”
Hannah’s questions had Gabby squirming. “I believe he had an appointment.”
“What kind of appointment?” When she didn’t answer, Hannah asked, “Gabby, do you know who he was going to see?”
After another long silence, Gabby said, “Madame Duvalee. She’s that psychic they’ve been talking about on TV.” She had to clutch the door handle as Hannah took a curve a little too fast for Gabby’s peace of mind.
“Why would he go to see a psychic?”
Gabby wanted nothing better than to explain the whole situation. The problem was she had promised Wood she wouldn’t mention his time travel to another soul. He had wanted to tell Hannah in his own time—when he was convinced she would accept the truth. Only now Red Murphy threatened to take that decision out of his hands.
“Gabby,
do
you know why he went to see this Madame Duvalee?” Hannah asked a second time.
Gabby needed to make a decision. Now. “There’s something I need to tell you before we go any farther,” she told Hannah. “Pull off the road.”
“Can’t you tell me while I drive?”
“I think you’d better pull off the road for a few minutes.”
Hannah parked the pickup on the gravel shoulder of the highway. Then she turned to her aunt. “All right. What has your hair standing on end?”
“I think Red picked up Wood because he found out he had a forged birth certificate, which I helped Wood get in Minneapolis last week so he could buy a new identity because he really is Wood Harris, not Alfred Dumler.”
“Wait a minute. This doesn’t make sense. If he really is Wood Harris, why would he need to buy a fake birth certificate?”
“Because his was too old,” she answered weakly.
“I told him we could call the courthouse and have one faxed.”
Gabby tugged on her lower lip with her tiny teeth. “He couldn’t do that.”
“Why not?”
Her voice was barely above a whisper as she said, “Because then everyone would have figured out that he was born in 1842.”
“You mean 1942,” she automatically corrected her. “Are you saying that Wood is really fifty-six years old?” Her mouth dropped open in disbelief.
“No, he wasn’t born in 1942, I said
1842
,” she repeated, her voice rising. “He’s a hundred and fifty-two years old. He time traveled from 1876. That’s why he had to pretend to be Alfred Dumler because you already thought he was crazy, and if he tried to tell you he was a time traveler, you would have had him locked up. But he’s not crazy, and he really is Wood Harris. It’s just that he’s in the wrong century.” The words came out in such a rush that she was out of breath by the time she had finished.
Hannah stared at her great-aunt in disbelief. “You’re not making any sense.”
“I know it’s hard to believe. I fainted when Wood told me. Who would have thought time travel was possible?”
Hannah’s jaw tightened, and she tapped several fingers on the steering wheel. “Now let me see if I have this straight. Wood used to live in 1876 until that day you found him in the cornfield, which was the day he time traveled. He doesn’t know how or why he got here, but thought he’d better pretend to be Alfred Dumler, the mail-order groom you had advertised for in the farm journal.”
Gabby nodded in agreement.
Hannah’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And the real Alfred Dumler—what happened to him?”
“Oh, he couldn’t come. He wrote me a letter but it got lost that day of the storm and Jeremy only found it last week.”
“It was conveniently lost, eh?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gabby asked.
Hannah sat there slowly shaking her head. “Gabby, you don’t really believe all this stuff, do you?”
“Of course I do. It’s true!”
“It’s a scam.” Hannah slapped the steering wheel with her palms. “I can’t believe it. I’ve been taken in by a con man!”
Gabby gasped. “Wood’s no con man! Hannah, it’s true. He’s from 1876. That’s why he acted so strangely when he first arrived. Everything was foreign to him—all the appliances, the vehicles, the machinery. Why else do you suppose he would have asked for a horse to ride to town?” She wanted to explain all the puzzling circumstances of the past month, but Hannah wanted no explanations.
She was too angry to listen to anything Gabby said in Wood’s defense. She started the pickup and did a U-turn in the middle of the highway.
“Where are you going?” Gabby’s cheeks grew even whiter.
“Back home. Wood Harris can figure out how to get himself out of jail,” she said stubbornly.
“He’s your husband!”
“Not for long.”
Gabby gulped air as if she were a fish out of water. “You’re driving too fast! Hannah, turn this truck around this minute,” she ordered in her sternest librarian’s voice, her knuckles white as she clung to her purse. Hannah slowed the vehicle, but she didn’t turn around.
“Hannah, you have to listen to me. Wood’s no con man. It’s the truth. He time traveled,” Gabby pleaded with her.
“The only thing he’s done is bamboozle both of us. And Jeremy.” Anger put two red spots on Hannah’s cheeks.
“He most certainly has not!” Gabby protested indignantly. “He’s a good man who’s caught in a time warp.”
Some of Hannah’s anger dissolved at the sight of her seventy-five-year-old aunt nearly in tears. It wasn’t Gabby’s fault that they had been taken in by a con man. She was just an old lady with a big heart, who didn’t always make the sharpest decisions.
Hannah took a deep breath, trying not to let her emotions overrule her common sense. “He’s caught in a jail which is where he should be.”
“You’re wrong, Hannah. Wood’s a good man.” Gabby refused to give up her defense of the man. “Now turn this truck around and take me to that jail.”
“No. I won’t do it.”
“I never thought I’d see the day when you would be a coward.”
Hannah chuckled mirthlessly. “You think I’m afraid to go see Wood?”
“Aren’t you?” When she didn’t answer, Gabby pressed on. “Hannah, he’s your husband. You at least owe him the right to give you his side of the story. How’s it going to look if you don’t even go get him out of jail?”
“Like I woke up and smelled the coffee,” she retorted.
“No, it’s going to make you look like a fool.”
“I am a fool. I trusted him.” As hard as she tried, Hannah couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice.
“All right. If you don’t want to pick him up, at least allow me to go set the record straight. I’m the one who helped him get the forged documents.”
“No.”
“All you have to do is drop me off at the front door. You don’t have to come inside. I’ll take care of everything.”
“No.”
Gabby would have stamped her foot had it reached the floorboards of the truck. As it was, she was too short and had to settle for a stern scolding. “Are you going to tell me what I can and cannot do?”
Reluctantly Hannah stopped the pickup. She mumbled something under her breath, then made another U-turn.
“Thank you,” Gabby said primly.
“You’re welcome.”
They were the only words spoken until Hannah parked the truck in front of the courthouse.
“Are you coming in with me?” Gabby asked.
It was a challenge. Hannah could see it in the old lady’s eyes. The C word still hung in the air between them. Gabby knew that if there was one thing Hannah hated, it was to be accused of having no guts.
But Hannah was also stubborn. If Gabby wanted to get Wood out of the clink, she could do it alone.
“I’ll wait here,” she said coolly, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel as she waited...and waited...and waited. Although she tried not to think about the outrageous story Gabby had told her, she kept replaying it over and over in her mind. She switched on the radio, hoping that music would distract her. It didn’t.
Finally, Wood and Gabby emerged from the courthouse. Hannah’s heart thumped madly in her chest at the sight of her husband. Something warm unfurled inside her, igniting an ember of desire that still smoldered from last night. When he saw her, their eyes met, and he smiled, as if he could read her thoughts.
There was no remorse on his or Gabby’s face. In fact, they were both smiling as they walked toward the pickup. Hannah soon learned the reason why.
“It wasn’t the forged-document thing at all. He got picked up for driving without a license,” Gabby said cheerfully, when Wood flung open the door on the passenger side. She smiled gratefully at him as he gave her a boost up into the truck. “Red sure was surprised to see me. He hadn’t even done the paperwork when I walked in. Lucky for us, I was able to convince him to let Wood off with a warning.”
“Thanks again, Gabby. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Wood gave her arm a gentle squeeze, then pulled the door shut, while Gabby blushed like a young schoolgirl.
Hannah caught a whiff of his aftershave, triggering all sorts of pleasant memories. Flustered, she started up the truck and backed it out of the parking space, ignoring the conversation going on between her aunt and her husband.
When they were halfway home and there still was no mention of time travel or Madame Duvalee, Hannah assumed that Gabby had warned Wood not to bring up the subject until they were back at the farm. She was right.
As soon as the three of them had their feet back on Davis soil, it didn’t take long for Gabby to discreetly disappear, leaving Hannah and Wood alone. They stood outside in front of the house, acting like two strangers rather than a husband and wife who had made passionate love through the night.
“We need to talk,” he said soberly.
She nodded, swallowing with great difficulty.
“Everything Gabby told you is true. I know it sounds crazy—I still have trouble believing it myself. But, Hannah, one day it was September 9, 1876 and the next day it was September 11, 1998.” He repeated the same story that Gabby had told her on the way to the courthouse. When he had finished and she hadn’t responded to any of it, he asked, “Don’t you have anything to say?”
“Yes, I do. Your game’s over, Wood or Alfred or whatever your real name is. You tried to scam us and it didn’t work, or did you forget that you signed the prenuptial agreement?”
“You think this is some joke I’m playing on you?”
“Yes, and it’s a cruel one. You hurt Gabby and when Jeremy finds out...”
“He’ll understand why I didn’t know a thing about basketball,” Wood interjected. “Or how to change the channel on the TV. And why I asked to use the outdoor privy.”
The image of him flushing the toilet repeatedly flashed in Hannah’s mind.
“Think about it, Hannah. I didn’t understand half of what you were saying and you saw what my clothes looked like.”
Bits and pieces of memory gave Hannah reason to suspect that what he said could indeed be true. What if he had really come from another century? It would explain so many things...the blank stares, the odd phrases, the total unfamiliarity with anything motorized.
“And how do you explain this time travel?” she asked cynically.
“I can’t. I suspect that it could have been lightning, since I saw a flash before it happened, and Jeremy tells me lightning hit that tree in the Nelson forty.”
She dropped down onto the porch steps, uncertainty weakening her muscles. “Was that why you didn’t want to come in from the storm? You wanted the lightning to take you back?”
He nodded grimly.
“And that’s why you were so interested in history, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I didn’t lie when I said I wanted to find my sister.”
“But you lied about so many things,” she said, disappointment creeping into her voice. “Why did you pretend to be Alfred Dumler? If you had told us right from the start who you were and what had happened, we would have helped you.”
“Have you forgotten that you tied me to the bed that first night I was here, even when you thought I was your invited guest?”
“Because you had marks on your neck and wrists—” she stopped suddenly. “Oh my God. Those were from a rope, weren’t they? You said you had run into the wrong kind of folks.” Fear widened her eyes. “Did someone try to hang you?”
She shuddered as the cold autumn wind sent a chill down her spine.
BOOK: Mail Order Cowboy (Harlequin American Romance)
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