Journey to Yesterday (15 page)

McCrory snorted as he flung his coat aside. “You don’t know
a damn thing, you dirty half-breed!”

“I know I’m gonna beat the shit out of you and then make you
eat it.”

“Hah! You’re the biggest crook in the whole damn town.”

Alejandro shook his head. “Enough sweet talk,” he muttered,
and drove his fist into McCrory’s smirking face.

Shaye hadn’t seen a fist fight since high school when her
boyfriend punched Ryan Halestone in the nose for kissing her in the hallway.
But that fight had been a tea party compared to this one.Alejandro fought with
a single-minded intensity the likes of which she had never seen, seemingly
impervious to the blows that he received. Blood oozed from a cut on his lower
lip, and another on his right cheek. McCrory looked far worse. He was bleeding
from his nose and mouth, his right eye was turning black.

Cheers and catcalls rose from the crowd as the two men
exchanged blows. Beside her, men were taking bets on the outcome of the fight.
The odds were five to two on Alejandro. She would have bet on him herself, had
she been so inclined. Even to her untrained eye, it was easy to see that Dade
McCrory was no match for Alejandro. McCrory was tiring rapidly, his punches
were badly timed and falling short. Alejandro hit him again, and McCrory went
down on his hands and knees. When he came up, there was a knife in his hand.

Alejandro stared at him a moment, and then there was a knife
in his hand, too, pulled from the inside of his right boot.

For a moment, the two men glared at each other. There was a
subtle shift in the atmosphere and the crowd fell silent as what had been an
ordinary fight suddenly turned deadly.

Dade McCrory knew how to handle a knife, and the fight,
which had been pretty much one-sided until now, took on a whole new dimension.

Shaye bit down on her lower lip, hardly daring to breathe,
as the two men circled each other, bodies slightly crouched, knife hands
outstretched. It was a silent and deadly dance, oddly compelling.

Without warning, McCrory lunged forward and when he pulled
away, there was blood dripping from a long gash in Alejandro’s left arm that
started just below his elbow.

A buzz ran through the crowd as Alejandro fell back. McCrory
pressed forward, his lips pulled back in a snarl, his knife driving for
Alejandro’s heart.

Shaye gasped, felt her own heart skip a beat, and then, in a
swift, cat-like move, Alejandro ducked under McCrory’s blade. Shaye blew out a
deep breath, her fingernails digging into her palms as the two men circled each
other again.

They came together in a rush, the sounds of their labored
breathing punctuated by the ring of steel striking steel.

McCrory’s blade slid over Alejandro’s ribs as Alejandro’s
blade came down toward his chest. McCrory’s upraised arm deflected the blade
and it sank to the hilt in his shoulder instead of his chest. Alejandro jerked
the blade out with a quick twist. McCrory let out a howl, then turned and staggered
down the alley.

Several men followed him. The rest clustered around
Alejandro.

Shaye elbowed her way through the crowd. “Are you all
right?” she asked.

“I’ve been better.” He cleaned the blood off his knife by
wiping it across his pant leg, then slid it back inside his boot. “Damn
coward.”

“Come on, you need a doctor.”

“I’m all right.”

“Sure you are.” She slid her arm around his waist. “Which
way?”

One of the men handed her Alejandro’s jacket. Another
stepped forward and wrapped a red bandana, which looked none too clean, around
the bloody gash in Alejandro’s arm. Several men slapped Alejandro on the back
as they threaded their way through the crowd.

“Way to go, Rio!”

“McCrory’s had it coming for a long time, the damned
one-eyed man!”

“You should have put that knife between his ribs.”

“One-eyed man?” Shaye asked as they walked toward the mouth
of the alley. “What on earth does that mean?”

“Means he’s a no-good, yellow four flusher.”

Shaye rolled her eyes. “Speak English.”

“He’s a cheat,” Alejandro said curtly. “I never should have
sold him my share in the Belle, but I wanted out. I didn’t know what a low-down
bastard he was until it was too late.”

Shaye glanced right and left when they reached the street.
“Which way?”

He grinned at her. “Stop worrying. I’m fine.”

“I want you to see a doctor.” She looked at the kerchief
wrapped around his arm. It was soaked with blood. Blood darkened the front of
his shirt, too.

“Shoot, there isn’t a doctor in this town that I’d trust.
Doctors are responsible for more deaths than mine cave-ins and pneumonia.”

Shaye frowned, wondering if he was serious. There was a
hospital on Mills Street south of Green if she remembered correctly. “Be that
as it may, your arm needs to be stitched up, and I can’t do it.”

“I can.”

She looked up at him. “You?”

He shrugged. “I’ve done it before.”

“Well, you’re not going to do it now. Come on.”

The hospital was a large two-story frame house. A sign out
front said
Doctor Rogers, M.D.

The waiting room was crammed with people, mostly miners with
a variety of injuries that seemed to range from sprains and breaks to
pneumonia. There was no place to sit down.

The doctor emerged from his office a moment later. He
surveyed the patients, then summoned Alejandro.

“Hey,” one man complained. “We was here first.”

“Yes, indeed, you were,” the doctor replied. “But all you’ve
got is a sprained ankle. This man’s bleeding.”

“Dammit, Doc…”

“I’ve put in twelve hours today,” the doctor said brusquely.
“I haven’t had lunch and I’ve missed my supper. You can wait your turn, or you
can leave. You,” he said, pointing at Alejandro, “come with me.”

Shaye hung Alejandro’s coat on a hook beside the door, then
glanced around the room. Like every doctor’s office she had ever been in, there
was a pile of old magazines on a table:
Scribner’s Monthly
,
Ladies
Home Journal
,
Carriage Monthly
, the
Illustrated Police News
.

She skipped the magazines and picked up an old newspaper.
Thumbing through the pages, she perused the ads. Joseph Wasson was running for
State Assembly for Mono and Inyo Counties, the Patterson Brothers were
advertising their photography shop, Silas B. Smith was having a
going-out-of-business sale. The ad for Boone & Wright, located at the
corner of Green and Main Street, stated they were dealers in General Merchandize,
including groceries, crockery and glassware, pure whiskeys and brandies, wines
and cigars. They were also agents for Weiner’s Milwaukee Beer, Ale, and Porter.
They also had stabling facilities for two hundred horses. An interesting
combination, Shaye mused.

A small article on the back page listed the businesses
available in Bodie. One opera house, five newspapers, six stage lines, four
shoemakers, a dozen cigar stores, fifteen restaurants, forty Chinese wash
houses, ten barber shops, two banks, sixteen law offices, four drug stores, two
assay offices, one harness maker, twenty-one lodging houses, as well as a
number of bakeries, stables, and clothing stores.

She folded the paper and put it back on the table, glanced
at the closed door of the doctor’s office, tapped her foot impatiently.
Finally, unable to stand it any longer, she crossed the floor and entered the
office.

Beyond the office, which was sparsely furnished with a small
desk and a large file cabinet, was a curtained off area. She hesitated a
moment, then drew back the curtain. Alejandro was stretched out on a narrow
table, his eyes closed. A wide bandage was wrapped around his middle. It looked
very white against the dark bronze of his skin. His shirt had been carelessly
tossed on a wooden stool in the corner.

The doctor was frowning in concentration as he stitched the
long, narrow gash in Alejandro’s forearm. The cloth under his arm was stained
with blood. Shaye felt her stomach turn over at the sight.

The doctor looked up. “Is something wrong?”

“No. No, I was just…”

“I’d advise you to sit down,” the doctor said, gesturing at
a chair, “and put your head between your legs.”

“I’m fine,” she said weakly.

“You’re about to faint,” the doctor said curtly. “Sit down.”

“If anyone’s going to faint, I think it should be me,”
Alejandro remarked drily.

Shaye sat down, lowered her head and closed her eyes. The
sight of blood had always made her sick to her stomach.

Some time later she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up,
she saw Alejandro grinning at her. It was a rather lop-sided grin, since his
lower lip was swollen on one side. He had put on his shirt. It was, she noted,
past saving. His right arm had been bandaged from his elbow down to wrist.

“You think you can make it back to the hotel?” he asked.

“Oh, shut up.”

He paid the doctor, Shaye retrieved his coat, and they left
the hospital.

“I’ll say one thing about living in the past,” Shaye
muttered as they walked back to the hotel. “It’s never dull.”

Shaye glanced around Alejandro’s new room, which was very
much like his old one: a double bed, a four-drawer chest, a single chair, a
window that overlooked the street.

“Can I help you with anything?” Folding his coat, she laid
it over the back of the chair.

He shook his head. “Thanks. I’ll be all right.”

“Okay. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Were you serious about dealing at the Queen?”

“Yes, if you really think I can do it.”

“There’s no time like the present to find out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m due at the Queen in an hour.” He lifted his wounded
arm. “The doc told me to take it easy for a few days. Said I shouldn’t deal.
But you can.”

“Tonight? You mean tonight? But I haven’t had enough
practice.”

Alejandro’s gaze moved over her. “Darlin’, the men won’t be
paying any attention to their cards.”

She stared at him a moment, felt her cheeks grow warm as she
realized what he meant. “But…”

“Wear something…provocative.”

“Provocative? Like what, my shorts?”

“What are shorts?”

“You know, the short pants I was wearing when I came here.”

“I remember,” he said with a grin. “You’ve got nice legs.”

“Thanks,” she muttered drily.

“I need to get cleaned up,” he said, glancing down at his
ruined shirt. “How soon can you be ready?”

“I don’t know. Thirty minutes?”

“All right. I’ll come for you in three-quarters of an hour.
And don’t worry. You’ll do fine.”

“If you say so.”

She hadn’t been kidding when she said the only provocative
thing she owned were her shorts. The outfits from Madame Sophie’s were all
demure in the extreme with their high necks and long sleeves.

In the end, she picked the white blouse with the ruffled
front and the wine red skirt, which had a modest bustle. She wore her hair
down, something she rarely did. She applied her makeup carefully, put on a
clean pair of stockings, laced up her boots.

She blew out a sigh when Alejandro knocked on the door.
Ready or not, she mused, here I come.

* * * * *

The Queen of Bodie was in full swing when they arrived.
Every table was filled to capacity. Men stood three deep at the bar, drinking
and laughing. The saloon girls moved through the room, their gaudy dresses
making them look like exotic birds.

Digger, Henry, and Spooner were sitting at Alejandro’s
table, along with two other men unknown to Shaye.

“’Bout time you got here, Rio,” Digger said. “Hell, man,
what happened to your arm?”

“I got into a little disagreement with McCrory. I’ll take
over now, Murphy.”

“Suits me.” Murphy swept up his winnings and left the table.

Alejandro pulled out a chair for Shaye, then dropped into
the one Murphy had vacated.

Spooner made a sound of disgust. “McCrory! That dirty
sonofa…” He glanced at Shaye, cleared his throat, and looked back at Alejandro.
“What did he do?”

“He’s dipping into the till over at the Belle.”

“The bastard. Oh, sorry, Shaye.”

“It’s all right, Spooner,” she said with a grin. “I agree
with you.”

“So, I guess you set him straight,” Henry said. “Right?”

“We talked,” Alejandro said curtly.

Spooner grunted. “Must have been some conversation. Does he
look as bad as you do?”

Alejandro laughed. “Worse.”

“We playin’ poker or gossipin’?”

“Hold your horses, Mercer,” Digger admonished. He gestured
at Alejandro’s injured arm. “You gonna be able to deal?”

“No. Hurts like the devil when I move my hand. Shaye’s gonna
deal, if you’ve got no objections.”

“Shaye!” Henry exclaimed. “Why, I think that’s a hell of…I
mean, that’s a fine idea.”

“I don’t care who deals,” Mercer muttered irritably. “Let’s
play cards.”

Alejandro winked at Shaye as he handed her a fresh deck.

She smiled her thanks, broke the seal, and shuffled the
cards, grateful that her hands weren’t shaking. She wasn’t sure why she was so
nervous. She had sat in with Spooner, Digger, and Henry before.

The four men each tossed twenty dollars into the pot.

Shaye looked over at Alejandro. “I didn’t bring any…”

He shook his head as he reached into his pocket and withdrew
a roll of greenbacks and a handful of coins. “You’re dealing for me,” he said
as he tossed a double eagle into the pot. “It’s only fair that I foot the
bill.”

* * * * *

Shaye pushed away from the table and stood up, stretching.
She couldn’t believe how quickly the last four hours had passed. What was even
more amazing was the fact that she had come out more than seven hundred dollars
ahead.

Alejandro sat back in his chair. “You’re a natural,
darlin’.” He smiled at her, a warm, wonderful smile that made her go weak in
the knees “I thought Mercer was gonna shit his britches when you turned over
that fourth jack.”

Shaye laughed. She had taken a big chance on the last hand,
and it had paid off. She gathered up her winnings and pushed them toward
Alejandro. “Thanks for backing me.”

Alejandro counted the greenbacks, gold and silver. After
deducting the amount he had given her up front, he split the rest in half, and
slid it across the table.

“What’s that for?”

“You worked hard. You earned it.”

“But I still owe you…”

“You don’t owe me anything, darlin’.” He picked up her half
and put it in his pocket. “Mine in the left, yours in the right,” he said, and
stood up. “Ready to go?”

She nodded, felt her whole body tingle when he took her hand
in his.

They walked slowly toward the hotel. Caught up in his
nearness, she paid little heed to the crowds on the street, hardly heard the
ever-present noise of the stamp mill. His hand was large and warm around hers.

The air around them felt charged, thick with tension, like
the air before a storm.

Her heart was pounding by the time they reached the hotel.
He walked her up the stairs, waited while she unlocked the door. Stepping
inside, she lit the lamp on the bedside table, her heart racing a little as she
wondered if he would stay awhile.

When she turned around, he was standing just inside the
door. “Should I go?”

She shook her head, felt a nervous quiver of excitement in
the pit of her stomach as he closed and locked the door behind him.

She stood there, feeling as though she were poised on the
brink of a precipice, while he closed the distance between them, then slid his
good arm around her waist and drew her close.

“Shaye.” He looked into her eyes, a wry smile on his lips.
“I love the sound of your name.”

“I love the way you say it.” She swayed toward him, eyelids
fluttering down as he bent his head toward her.

His kiss, when it came, was warm and sweet and infinitely
tender. Rising on her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed
him back.

“Rio…”

He ran his finger over her lower lip. “I know darlin’,” he
murmured.

“Does your arm hurt very much?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Would you mind if I spent the night?”

She batted her eyelashes at him in her best Southern belle
style. “Why, sir, whatever are you suggesting?”

“When I’m suggesting something, darlin’, you’ll know it,” he
said with a wicked grin. “You won’t have to ask.”

“Of course you can stay.” She unbuttoned his shirt, taking
care not to jar his injured arm as she slipped his shirt off and tossed it on
the chair.

She unbuckled his gunbelt, coiled it around the holster, and
laid it on top of his shirt.

When she started to unbuckle his belt, he laid his hand over
hers. “I think I’d better take care of the rest myself.”

She nodded. Turning her back to him, she began to get
undressed.

He whistled under his breath when he saw her standing there
clad in nothing but her bra and panties. “What the hell are you wearing?”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “This is what ladies’
underwear is like where I come from.”

“Damn,” he muttered, “I’m gonna have to go there.”

She made a face at him. Removing her under garments, she
pulled on her nightgown, then drew back the covers and slid under the sheets.

A few moments later, he crawled into bed beside her.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Alejandro
remarked.

“What I said about what?”

“About your coming here from the future.”

“Do you believe me?”

“I don’t know.” He put his arm around her and drew her up against
his side.

“It seems impossible.”

“But here I am.” She turned her head so she could see his
face. “You’ll leave town the end of July, won’t you?”

“If you’ll go with me.”

She nodded, knowing she would gladly go anywhere he asked.
“What about Daisy?”

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll just have to take her with us.”

“That’ll be a lot of fun,” Shaye muttered. But she knew he
was right. They couldn’t leave Daisy behind. And once again, she couldn’t help
wondering what effect, if any, all this would have on the future.

She settled her head on his shoulder, thinking how right it
felt to be lying there with him. Only a few days ago, she had been afraid she
would never find her way back home; now she wanted to spend the rest of her
life here, with him.