Hog met her gaze with a kind smile. She returned it, and resumed eating. It wouldn't be fair to take so many family members away from Stephanie, she'd be quite lonely. Then again, maybe Stephanie, Snake and Bug would want to come, too. Oh, but that would leave Willamina and Eva here alone. She could imagine the younger generation accepting the future, but Stephanie and Willamina would have a hard time with it all.
When her plate was empty, she rose to carry it to the sink, pondering if she could convince the whole Quinter family to travel through the tunnel.
"You sit down and rest. I'll help Hog clean up,” Stephanie instructed.
Lila quivered, returning to the present with a snap. The woman was being much too nice. She'd expected the opposite. How on earth was she going to explain an adoption agency to Ma Quinter? Shaking her head, needing a few minutes to straighten her wandering mind, she said, “No, I'm getting stiff from lying around. I need the exercise."
Before Stephanie had a chance to answer, a loud commotion sounded from the front yard. Everyone leaped to their feet. Ma Quinter was the first to get to the doorway, her large double-barrel shotgun in hand as she threw the door open.
Lila peered over the woman's shoulder, and her heart somersaulted. Skeeter jumped from the back of the wagon before it even stopped rolling. She stepped forward, ready to run out the doorway when Kid flew off his horse to help Skeeter lift something out of the wagon.
"What's up?” Stephanie shouted. “Who's hurt?"
"It's Bug, Ma. He's hurt bad,” Skeeter said.
Stephanie threw the gun, it skid across the floor as she raced out the door. “My baby? Who hurt him? How bad is it? Dang-gum it, boys, hurry up, get him in here!"
Lila pressed both hands to the rapid thuds in her chest. Jessie wrapped a hand around her shoulders, but her gaze was on Skeeter. His eyes met hers. They were dull, sad, not a hint of joy could be seen. A sob choked her as she looked at the lifeless body he and Kid carried up the stairs.
Jessie tugged, pulled her out of the way as the men crossed the threshold. Leaving Lila to stand alone, away from the crowd, Jessie bustled forward. “Bring him upstairs, I'll get the bed ready."
From the kitchen area Willamina said, “I'll get some water, Eva get some rags and bandages."
Lila retreated further out of the way, feeling useless, like a fifth wheel. She had no idea what to do. In her time, they'd call nine-one-one, or drive to an emergency room and wait, huddled together in a sterile waiting room, for a doctor's diagnosis. Heavens, no one here probably even knew CPR. She did, she'd learned it in ninth grade health class, but had never used it—did she even remember the basics?
The scuttle around her continued—Jessie bolted up the stairs. Skeeter and Kid, gently maneuvering their load, followed with Ma right on their heels. Willamina rushed from the kitchen, a basin of steaming water in her hand. Eva went up the steps next, carrying a handful of white cloths.
Lila brushed her hair away from her face, irritated by the stray curls. She was the only one who'd gone to college, probably the only one who'd graduated high school, yet here she stood—without a clue as to do what to do—feeling as dumb as a box of rocks.
A man, one of the diggers, walked in the doorway. He glanced around then handed her a squat leather bag. “Here's the medical bag from the site. Maybe there's something in there they'll need."
She wrapped her fingers around the handle. Still unsure. Hog appeared at her side, a tapestry satchel in his hand. He touched her shoulder. “Come on,” he coaxed her to trek up the stairs ahead of him.
Her steps were slow, shaky. Hog's arm settled on her shoulders, gently steadying. She glanced his way, her eyes settled on the bag in his other hand.
"It's Ma's medical bag,” he said.
She nodded, recognizing it from when Stephanie had examined her earlier. It was full of small bottles and pouches of herbs, balm, and other things she quivered even imagining what they might be. Did they still bleed people with leeches in this era? Did Ma Quinter have a bottle full of bloodsuckers in the tattered bag? A shiver tickled her flesh. Why hadn't she studied medicine instead of Information Technology? At least then she'd be some help.
Hog patted her shoulder. “Ma's knows what she's doing. Before Doc Fields arrived a couple years ago, Ma doctored all the folks around Nixon."
She swallowed against the thickness forming in her throat and topped the stairs. Eva hovered in the doorway of the room down the hall. Tears trickled down the girl's face. With fingers trembling as hard as Lila's, Eva wiped her cheeks, and stepped aside to let Lila and Hog pass.
Stephanie and Willamina stood near the head of the bed, blocking her view of Bug. His long legs stretched to the foot of the bed, stocking toes flopped sideways. Jessie, wrapped in Kids arms stood on the other side, one of her hands gently rubbing Bug's knees.
Skeeter stood on that side of the bed, near the headboard, his hand on Bug's shoulder. She wanted to go stand beside him, wrap her arms around his solid waist, but there wasn't enough room to squeeze past Kid and Jessie. She stared, willed him to look her way. But he didn't. His eyes watched whatever Stephanie and Willamina were doing.
Hog left her side, moved to set Stephanie's bag on the table beside the bed. Lila clutched the handle in her hand, her teeth trembling, pinched her bottom lip. Hog returned, took the bag from her hand and then carried it to the table too.
Running footsteps echoed off the stairs and seconds later Snake bound into the room. Breathless he asked, “How is he?"
Kid glanced his way, gave a slight shake of his head. Jessie buried her face deeper into his chest, and Lila, gasping for air glanced to Skeeter. He still didn't look her way.
"Ya'll get out of here,” Stephanie said, her voice extremely calm. “Willamina and I got work to do."
No one protested, but each of the boys touched Bug before they turned to meander toward the door. Hog put his hand on her back, pushed her toward the door. She appreciated his kindness, but it wasn't his touch she wanted. Fighting the urge to shrug off his hand, she walked through the door.
As each person stepped out of the room, they stopped outside the door, forcing her to move further down the hall. She soon found herself near the door to her room. When Skeeter stepped out they were separated by everyone else. She stepped forward, ready to nudge past Hog to get to him when Snake said, “Buffalo Killer is outside. He won't come in a white man's house."
Skeeter took his hat off, flattened his hand over his forehead, squeezing his temples with his forefinger and thumb. Lila squelched an urge to thrust through the crowd, silently begging him to look her way.
He didn't. With a solemn nod he moved toward the stairs. “I'll go talk to him."
Hog and Snake followed him. Kid, Jessie still clutched to his side, went toward the room they'd been staying in, and Eva shot down the hall to the room she and Willamina had been settle in.
Lila stood there until loneliness and sadness quaked her body so hard she became fearful of collapsing. With a sob she turned and stumbled into her bedroom. She was sad Bug was hurt, certainly didn't want him to die. But what about her? Why wasn't Skeeter comforting her like Kid was Jessie?
A gut wrenching, sick and sour, taste filled her mouth. She hadn't changed. She was a selfish, horrible person who thought of no one but herself.
Trembling from head to toe, she buckled onto the edge of the bed. The last bit of sunshine provided just enough light to cast the room with a fog-like haze. The room swirled, and she covered the wrenching sob bubbling out her mouth with her hand.
In the future it hadn't seemed so awful. For years she'd been taught that's how people her age behaved, accepted it factually, with no need to question or change it, but here, where everyone cared so much for one another, helped each other without the slightest thought of what was in it for them, her behavior was appalling.
A warm, soft tumble happened in her stomach, and she laid her palm against it. She wasn't completely selfish. After all, she was giving her baby away so it could have a good home. Knew that's what was best for the baby. Or was that what she'd told herself? Maybe the real reason she was giving the baby away is because it would be too much work to keep. Isn't that what everyone in the future had told her? The flutter happened again. She'd believed them. Without completely examining the decision, she'd taken what her friends, the doctor, and social worker had said as gospel. Having a baby as a single, college student was not a wise decision—giving the baby away was.
She rose and walked to the window. The moon had risen to replace the sun's light with a shimmering glow. It bounced off the hills of prairie grass, casting dark shadows across the land. No one had said traveling to the past was a good idea, but here she was. Twisting, her gaze settled on the large group of men gathered near the barn, Hog and Snake, surrounded by ranch hands and a few diggers. Their heads hung as they conversed amongst themselves, clearly worried about Bug.
Bright red, new paint on the barn glistened in the pale light. She frowned. These men had all left their duties behind to come build the house and barn for Skeeter and her. They weren't construction workers who were paid for their time and skill. Sure, some were employees of Kid's, and he probably still paid their wage, but even the diggers had left the excavation site just to come and help. This era certainly put more effort into helping each other than helping themselves.
Near the wagon parked in the middle of the yard stood two other men, her heart thudded as her gaze settled on her husband. His hands gestured as he spoke with Buffalo Killer.
She crossed her arms, hugging herself. Maybe it was time she learned to think for herself; to consider how her actions affect others—time for her to rethink her decision.
Skeeter trudged up the front steps, his feet heavier than two good size anvils. He paused at the door, almost fearful of entering. Images of Bug's pale face tore at his mind and heart. Buffalo Killer would gather more braves; send them out to search the area for both Johansson and Hawkins. He was certain it was one of them who'd injured his little brother, and they'd pay. Of that he had no doubt.
The door swung open easily, and he entered the deathly quiet house. Coal oil lamps flickering here and there along with the streaks of a full moon provided a welcoming glow. He sighed, lifted his head to gaze about.
Windows circled the entire span of the lower floor. At first he wondered about not having walls to separate the rooms, but once completed, he really liked the feeling the space gave of living on the prairie with as few barriers as possible. He loved the wide open plains and the design fit perfectly. The way the stone fireplace fit between two of the windows reminded him of Castle Rock.
His heart flipped, hitting the inside of his ribcage with the tremendous jolt. A huge painting, well over three feet square hung above the mantle. He stepped closer, gapping as he took in the artwork. The heat of passion swirled with the softness of love from head to toe as he stared at Lila's image.
Her beautiful face gazed up at his. Radiant eyes sparkled and butterfly lips were crested into a happy arch. An avalanche of emotions tumbled over him. The minute he'd seen her tonight he'd wanted to crush her to him. Feel her soft curves fused with his. Smell her hair, taste her lips. But he'd had to see to Bug. Had to get his brother settled so Ma could assess his injuries, and then, in the bedroom, when the gut wrenching reality of Bug's seriousness hit, he couldn't go to her. If he had, the red hot tears burning his eyes would have flowed. In her arms, he would have cried like a little boy with wet britches. Stone cold determination of not embarrassing her like that is what held him at bay.
He'd seen the fear in her eyes, the feelings of helplessness as she watched everyone scramble about. She was so vulnerable in this harsh world. Her time must be gentler, not as violent. Thoughts of the useless tunnel tugged at the back of his mind. Turning to the staircase he moved, grasped the banister. If he had to dig more tunnels than a prairie dog town had, he'd find a portal to get her home. Return her to the world where she could be happy and carefree.
The door to Bug's room was still closed. He paused, but no sounds filtered through the thick wood. He stopped at the threshold to his room, their room. The one he would share with Lila, at least until he found a way to get her back to the future. Through the open door way, he let his gaze linger at how magnificent the room looked furnished. It was somewhat ironic. He, Skeeter Quinter, who'd never thought of having a glamorous home, a beautiful wife, a barn full of livestock, now had it all.
His eyes stopped, took in her image as the emotions swirling in his blood stream made his veins throb almost painfully. Her head was tilted down, focused on using the flint stick to light the lamp on the table beside their bed. He moved cautiously, a thick rug absorbed the sound of his heels as he stepped up behind her. She replaced the glass chimney of the lamp, and his hands reached out, wrapped around her waist.
Instantly she twisted, wrapped her arms around him and molded her frame to his. Each curve found a matching one, making him feel as if he'd just been cocooned with a warm, fragrant blanket. He let the air leave his lungs and basked in her embrace. They stood like that for several seconds, and then her lips began to run kisses along his skin exposed between the undone top buttons of his shirt. Her lips crept upwards along his neck.
His hands rose from her back to her face, his fingers raked through the silky hair over her ears, and with an out of control longing, he took her mouth. The hot, moist fusion sent a river of shivers through his body. With a deep groan, he plunged deeper, needing her more than a dying man needed grace.
His lungs, burning for air, forced him to end the kiss sometime later. He filled his chest with a fresh breath and trailed her face with smaller kisses. It was amazing how one kiss from her could refuel his body. He no longer felt drained, but renewed with energy so strong he knew this craze he had for her would never wane as long as he lived.