West (History Interrupted Book 1) (13 page)

“So you fell from the sky.”

The sheriff tensed. “That reminds me. We never finished our conversation about where you went for the year you were missing.”

“We probably never will.” I flashed him a smile. “Unless you want people in general knowing about your brother and his friends.”

“Are you threatening me, ma’am?”

“Why yes, Sheriff, I think I am.”

He studied me, amusement in his bright gaze. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time you need rescuing.”

“I told you. I can take care of myself.”
For the most part, anyway
. I strode to my horse.

“Maybe you can right now, Miss Josie. But one day, someone like you is going to find her way into a problem she can’t get out of. I’m likely the person who can help you.”

I paused. Sometimes, I got the feeling we were talking around something we both know but were unwilling to bring out into daylight, like time traveling or psychopathic family members. I didn’t quite know how to respond. Carter had said the sheriff was dangerous without specifying why or how. Whenever we met, I had the urge to leave too quickly to uncover whatever it was Carter wanted.

In hindsight, I should’ve asked Cater many more questions about this two-week
vacation
.

“Are you saying you’ll hang me out to dry?” I asked and mounted the horse.

“I’m saying, there’s a give and take to the world, ma’am. If you need my help again, it won’t be free.”

“Then I’ll make sure not to need your help again.” A little tired and rattled from the night, I was anxious to put as much distance as possible between me and the cave with the crazy man. “Have a good day, Sheriff.”

His arms were crossed. Unruffled, he was nonetheless unhappy. I didn’t want anything to do with him, but I was also relieved that his quiet strength stood between the madman below and me.

I wheeled the horse and bolted back the way I came from, determined to make it home before Nell awoke and had a meltdown. The night didn’t seem so scary in the full light of morning, though I wasn’t able to purge the shadowy images I had seen in Fighting Badger’s mind.

I had never met someone like him, and it disturbed me on too many levels for me to define. Pity, fear, shock … I intended to keep my promise to return and visit him, because a small part of me wanted to think there was some good in every person I met, including Fighting Badger.

Even Philip, the cousin who was headed to my house to visit today. I didn’t know who was worse: a man with the mind of a ten-year-old who killed people so he had friends or a rapist aware of what he did.

At least I have Nell and John.
They were good people, through and through.

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

The house was beginning to wake up when I sneaked back in. I barely made it to my room, pushed off my boots and riding habit and checked my phone for messages when Nell knocked on the door.

“Just a minute!” I yelled. Without changing out of the clothes I’d left in, I scrambled to jump under the covers of my bed.

Nell opened the door and glanced around. Ever the astute nanny, she noticed the boots in a place other than where she left them and raised an eyebrow at me.

My mind raced.  “Okay. You caught me,” I said. “I was, uh, trying to dress myself.” Tucking the phone under my pillow, I flung off the blankets and stood.

“I see.” Nell frowned. “It’s clear you need my help.” Without another word, she opened the door to the dressing room. “Would you care for a bath, Miss Josie?”

I snorted. I was beat and tired from the long night. “That sounds divine.”

“Very well. I will prepare it for you. Breakfast will be in the parlor with your father and cousin. The storm didn’t scare him off, unfortunately.”

Storm? I went to the window. In a matter of ten minutes, the brisk wind had pushed in a line of clouds that were devouring the sky. “Great. So he’ll be here all day,” I muttered.

I retrieved my phone. The sound of running bath water came from the dressing room, and I put my back towards the direction where Nell was to check my messages. Carter had sent back long responses, though his first was the one with all the emojis.

TWINS?! That’s not a part of my planning or research everywhere! Do you know how rare it is for …

“Yadda, yadda.” I scanned his rant about Native Americans and twin stats to find something interesting.

Starmen sounds like a video game. If your emo-radar went off and people glowed then yes, you found the right guys who are the catalysts, those who change history. You need to get close to the twins and Taylor to find out what their plans are.

“Shit.” I chewed on my lower lip. I texted him back.
Slight problem. Two of them hate me and one might be a serial killer.

In all his texts, Carter said nothing about the three girls. Which meant it was probably important if he was avoiding it. I asked him again about them, and his answer made me shiver.

There may have been others before you.
Not a yes or no, but a definite sign he’d deceived me.
Serial killer?! Okay, I definitely need to do some research.

“Why did you lie to me, Carter?” I whispered. I didn’t ask him, troubled. This seemed like more than the usual oversight or side effect of his odd personality. The dark sense stirred again, one I took to originate from the empathic memory chip.

One that told me Carter was hiding much more than this.

“Miss Josephine!” The sound of Nell shuffling around in the anteroom made me think the bath I had heard about was ready.

I took my phone, going to the doorway. To my delight, the water was clear and steaming. I pulled off the clothes I’d put on last night to hop into the water.
Oh, god this feels like heaven!
I hissed at the heat and buried the phone beneath my shift on the nearby chair, aware of how Nell viewed the devil’s box.

My mind was tired – but wired with energy. I wanted to know more about those who came before me, about Running Bear and Fighting Badger and how the sheriff was connected to everything.

“You awoke early,” Nell said.

“Yes. Nell, can we visit the Indians today?” I asked.

“Of course not.”

“That’s what I thought.” Puzzled how I was going to find Running Bear, who bore a potentially dangerous grudge, let alone talk him and his brother out of slaughtering people, I leaned back. The one idea that surfaced: telling their chief, who seemed to want peace, if John was to be believed. But I couldn’t do that, either, with Nell dogging my every step. “How is Father this morning?”

“Well. Happy.” Nell’s expression softened.

“Good.” I smiled. “What are we doing today? Another trip to town?”

“Heavens no. Even if the storm wasn’t coming, your father had five marriage proposals on his desk this morning,” Nell said.

“No one asked me.”

“Why would they?” Nell raised an eyebrow. “It’s your father’s responsibility to choose a good husband for you.”

That’s just so wrong.
“Do the Indians or half-Indians have arranged marriages?”

“Josie, dear, please. You should not be thinking of them or talking about them.” As if to emphasize her point, Nell grabbed a brush with thick bristles and began scrubbing my back.

“Ow,” I muttered. “That looks like it should be used on a horse.”

“You are one odd girl.”

I rolled my eyes and bore through the bath, robbed of any chance to enjoy it by Nell’s ministrations.

An hour later, I was dressed and waiting for Nell to tell me what was on our schedule. When my nanny didn’t immediately return, my gaze fell to the sheep, visible out the open windows. Most had been herded into a corral or the smallest of the many barns by farm hands. The sky was gray but not yet raining, the wind loud and brisk.

I always wanted animals. John had tons of horses and sheep. Curious to explore my temporary home and avoid Philip as long as possible, I left my room without waiting for Nell and strode out of the house. Several farm hands were out, preparing the property for the storm. Shutters were closed, buggies rolled into the massive carriage house, canvas tarps thrown over hay and other items that might fly away, and the wells covered. Most of the animals present were huddled together or being led into barns.

I watched the efficient, quick preparations that told me they were used to storms here and entered the horse barn. All the stalls were filled, and half the barn was roped off to form a makeshift corral for additional horses.

The horse I borrowed was eating and came to the stall door when I approached.  I reached out to rub his forehead. “Thanks for not telling anyone about our escape last night,” I murmured.

Smiling, I stroked the smooth hair of its jaw and soft skin of its muzzle. It blew out its nostrils in response, ears flickering.

Anxious to visit the sheep before Nell found me, I left the barn and walked around it to reach the large pen with goats and sheep, pausing to observe what looked like an old well. The waist-high stone circle was boarded up and sat among piles of loose straw that had been recently tarped down.

An odd memory flickered, less of a vision and more of an instinct, the strange sense of knowing that plagued me at Fighting Badger’s cave. There was history to the old well, and not a good one, if my enhanced memory was to be believed.

I forgot to ask Carter how I can read dead people and places,
I thought absently.

I leaned over the stone, trying to see through the cracks between boards into the depths of the well. Wind pushed me aside and I gripped the boards, testing them. Some appeared old and cracked, the nails holding them in place rusted. Others, however, looked newer, if weathered. I rested a hand on the newer ones, trying to capture the whisper I heard from the well.

There was more than one, I realized with some puzzlement. Unlike Fighting Badger’s cave, where the whispers came from different places, these were all centered at the bottom of the well.

One … two … three.
Three distinct, if fuzzy, images.

“You found Fighting Badger. Running Bear told me not an hour ago that you knew about my uncle’s illness. How is this possible, Josie Jackson?”

I whirled. The man I least expected to see stood near a stack of hay. The sheriff was edgy, his intense gaze on me. It was a difference from earlier, when he’d almost been friendly while comforting me.

“My cousin Philip is here.” I warned him with a quick glance towards the barn and the house beyond. “I get the feeling you two don’t get along.”

The sheriff shrugged. Undeterred, he moved towards me, bringing with him the intensity of a man not about to leave until he had his answers. Any ground I thought I’d made with him was gone.

“Who is your uncle, and why do you think I know anything about him?” I asked, confused. I eased away to put the well between us, once more racking my brain for any memories, images or feelings that could be attributed to him.

All I heard was the whispering from the well.

“Running Bear told me what you told him,” the sheriff said with tried patience. “His uncle is my uncle.”

“Ah. Right,” I said. I hadn’t thought once about what to say if someone called me on my strange knowledge. “Well … was I right?”

“You know you were.”

“Oh.” I looked away. “I overheard my father mention it.”

“No one knew. Even his children.” The sheriff was circling the well again. “And
you
are a terrible liar.”

Dammit.
I started to retreat. His pace quickened, and he reached across the well, snatching my arm. Holding me in place, he circled the well. His grip was tight without being painful, but it was the fire burning in his green eyes that unnerved me.

“You’re scaring me a little right now,” I murmured.

“What exactly are you doing here, Josie?” With his lean body and his unexpected, visible anger, I didn’t want to push him.

How was I supposed to take that question? Was he asking why I was behind the barn – or why I was sent back in time? Because I had the sense again he knew exactly who I was, as impossible as it seemed.

“If you’re threatening my family, there is no limit to what I will do to you.” He regarded like he was considering dropping me into the depths of the well.

Like the others.

The faint memories of this place were getting stronger.

That can’t be good.
What if Carter cranked up the juice too much on the chip in my brain, and I started communicating regularly with inanimate objects as well as people?

Sheriff Hansen moved closer again. Not liking the expression on his face, I hedged.

“Look, I can explain everything,” I said, wetting my lips nervously. “I wasn’t threatening your family. I didn’t even know they were your family until you told me!”

“Then speak,” he ordered.

“I, um … first, can I ask you what happened the night you found me?”

The muscles in his jaw ticked.
Definitely not the right time.

“The truth is I can’t tell you how I got here or how I know about your uncle. I’m a … uh, victim of circumstances.” I focused hard on him to avoid the strange whispering from the well. As before, the sheriff’s mind was silent, unwilling to share its secrets with me the way others did. “I don’t know anything about you.”

My gaze went up to his face again. He was even tenser.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the next gust of wind carried sprinkles.

I didn’t know what to say in the thick silence. The whispering behind me was really distracting, the man before me probably debating whether or not he’d kill me.

“Do you hear that?” I asked, irritated. I tried to twist in his grip, but he held me in place, moving closer to keep me from moving. The back of my legs hit the stone wall.

“Hear
what
?”

An image flashed, and I froze.

A flash of blonde hair in the moonlight blinding her as she fell into darkness … the form of someone standing over the well, peering into it.