A Moment in Time (48 page)

      
"Don't be in such a hurry, Zeb," she said, touching his arm again.
 
"I need a little favor."

      
His Adam's apple bobbed up and down the length of his skinny neck.
 
"A...a favor?"

      
"Yes, dear."
 
She gave a mournful sigh.
 
"I want you to fetch me a nice tub of hot water and..."
 
She leaned close and whispered in his ear.

      
"N-now?" he croaked.

      
"Now, Zeb."
 
She smiled again and he blushed.
 
"Right now."

      
"B-but I ain't supposed to leave my post."
 
His eyes jerked back and forth between her and the door.
 
"Mr. Goodfellow will cut off my whiskey for sure."

      
Ah, poor Zeb.
 
What he needs is a good alcohol treatment program.
 

      
"Lock me in, Zeb," she said, and his eyes widened.
 
"I won't mind.
 
Really.
 
I just want a nice, warm bath soooo bad.
 
But bring me those other items first, please?"
 
She smiled and he looked like he might croak.
 
That would be damned inconvenient.

      
"Sure thing, Miss Lolita."
 
He bobbed his head and backed out the door, pulling it shut behind him.

      
Jackie laughed quietly to herself, then went to the door and pressed her ear against it.
 
After a few minutes, she twisted the knob and it gave easily.
 
The fool had forgotten to lock it.

      
Fine, she'd get her answers first.
 
Slipping out the door, she crossed the hall to the room they'd given Blade and turned the knob without knocking.
 
A brunette let out a mini shriek and pulled the sheet over her head.

      
"You can't keep your wick dry in any century," Jackie goaded, closing the door behind her.
 
The girl in Blade's bed couldn't be a day over sixteen.
 
"Jail bait, Blade?
 
Tsk, tsk."

      
He chuckled and shrugged, reaching for the whiskey bottle on his nightstand.
 
"You remembered how good it was between us and came back for more, babe?"

      
"Only in your wettest dreams."
 
She folded her arms and leaned against the door.
 
He hadn't denied his identity.
 
Well, at least now she knew.
 
"I just want to know one more thing, Blade."

      
"What?"

      
"How the hell did you get here?"

      
He sat up and the sheet slipped down, revealing his tattoos and rippling muscles.
 
The guy was still a looker, but she'd take Cole over fifty Blades.

      
"That piece of shit you call a car died and I got lost in that frigging blizzard," he said, shaking his head.
 
"I snuck in the back door of this place–" he looked around and snorted–"at least I think it was this place and saw you sitting there reading.
 
It was warm and dry, so I hid behind the bar, figuring I'd, uh, surprise you in the morning.
 
Next thing I knew, the place was on fire."

      
A shudder of remembrance swept through Jackie and she swallowed.
 
"How'd you get here?
 
I don't understand."

      
"When you disappeared in that painting, I dove in after you.
 
It's fate, babe."

      
She wasn't crazy after all, and that painting really was a time portal.
 
"So you woke up here, too?"

      
He nodded.

      
"In the gutter where you belong, I hope."

      
"In the kitchen, but I slipped out before anybody saw me."
 
He chuckled and the brunette peered over the edge of the sheet.
 
"This won't take much longer, sweetcakes."
 
He turned his attention back to Jackie.
 
"So...you going to help me spend Goodfellow's gold, babe?"

      
Jackie shook her head and gripped the doorknob.
 
She'd heard enough.
 
"Oh, I wouldn't spend what you don't have yet if I were you.
 
And..."
 

      
"Oh, I'll have it and I'll enjoy every penny."
 
He took a drink from his whiskey bottle, his dark eyes glittering as he swallowed.
 
"And what?"

      
"I never want to see your sleazy ass again in any time or place."
 
Ignoring his menacing chuckle, she slipped through the door and returned to her room.

      
She walked slowly to the mirror again, staring at her reflection.
 
Her gray eyes snapped and her nostrils flared.
 
A sense of power flowed through her, confirming that she was doing the right thing.
 
She hoped Cole would agree.

      
With a longing sigh, she squeezed her eyes shut, picturing Cole as he'd looked during their picnic at the waterfall.
 
And he'd been so patient and gentle while she'd told her story of time travel.
 
Only a man who really loved a woman would've listened to every crazy word as he had.

      
Her belly tightened with longing and her heart swelled with love.
 
She loved him so much.
 
With renewed determination, she opened her eyes and gave herself an emphatic nod.

      
"Ready or not, world."

Chapter 17

      
Cole rode into Devil's Gulch hours before the Gold Mine Saloon would open its doors.
 
He tied Ruth to the hitching post and pounded on the double doors until they swung open with a squeak of protest.

      
"We ain't open yet," a woman's husky voice called.
 
"Come back later."

      
Cole wedged his boot in the door as she tried to close it.
 
"I'm looking for someone," he said, hoping he wouldn't need the rifle he held close against his leg where it wouldn't be easily noticed.
 
But he
would
use it if he had to.

      
The door opened a little farther and he saw Miss Dottie's big blond hair.
 
"Mornin', ma'am."
 
He tipped his hat.
 
"I'm looking for..."
 
He hesitated, then realized they would only know her by one name.
 
"I'm looking for Lolita Belle."

      
"Why?"
 
The woman sounded suspicious, but the door creaked open even farther.
 
"What do you want with that troublemaker?"

      
Cole shrugged and flashed Miss Dottie what he hoped was a charming smile, searching for the words that would win his entrance.
 
"She, uh, took something that belongs to me, ma'am."

      
His heart.

      
"Oh?"
 
Miss Dottie swung the door completely open and her eyes widened as they looked him over from head to toe, then back again.
 
"You're Cole Morrison, ain't you?"
 
She wore only a bright red robe tied at her waist, her voluptuous bosom spilling out and her legs bare.
 

      
"Yes, ma'am, I'm Cole Morrison, and I really need to see Miss Lolita."
 
He smiled again.

      
Dottie pursed her lips and sneered, but stepped aside to allow Cole to enter.
 
He didn't care who he had to charm or who he had to anger, as long as it led him to Jackie.
 
At least now he knew she was here.

      
"Thank you," he said as Dottie closed and locked the door behind him.
 
"Where–"

      
"Morrison, what in blazes are you doing here at this godforsaken hour?" Goodfellow grumbled from the bottom of the stairs.
 

      
"Morning, Goodfellow."
 
Cole removed his hat and dropped it on a nearby table.
 
The man's name seemed wrong.
 
Should've been "Badfellow."

      
"Morning?
 
The sun's barely up.
 
What the hell do you want anyway?"
 
Goodfellow rubbed his beady eyes and rolled his unlit cigar from one side of his mouth to the other.
 
"Well?"

      
"I came to see Miss Lolita."
 
Cole straightened, keeping the rifle close to his body.
 
"And I aim to see her."

      
The saloon owner narrowed his eyes, then shifted his gaze to Dottie.
 
"Do you know anything about this?"

      
The woman shrugged and said, "Says Lolita took somethin' of his."

      
Goodfellow turned his gaze on Cole again.
 
"I reckon that means you're the one who took her to Merriweather."
 
The little man nodded as he spoke.
 
"Makes sense, I suppose.
 
Merriweather hired you for the job, because no one would ever expect it.
 
Do you realize this makes you an outlaw, Morrison?"

      
Cole didn't bother to respond.
 
The man spoke the truth, though he knew Jackie would never accuse him of kidnapping her now.
 
"I came to see her."
 
He swung the rifle up in front of him and leveled it toward Goodfellow's gut.
 
"Show me to her room."

      
"Ah, hell.
 
I know you aren't gonna use that thing, so don't bother pretending."

      
"Don't test me."
 
Cole kept his voice low, his eyes hooded.
 
"I'm a man on a mission, Goodfellow.
 
Don't stand in my way."

      
Goodfellow chewed furiously on his unlit cigar, his eyes finally reflecting his comprehension that Cole meant business.
 
"I swear, that woman is more trouble than she's worth," the smaller man muttered.

      
"That's what I been tryin' to tell you, Rupert, but–"

      
"Shut up, Dottie."
 
Goodfellow turned and stomped up the stairs.
 
"Come along, Morrison, but I'm locking you in with her."

      
Locked in with Jackie?
 
Cole could think of worse fates, but right now rescuing her was uppermost on his mind.
 
He lowered the rifle to his side again and started up the stairs.