Badland Bride (11 page)

She nodded, glanced about the area. “How far is it to Kid's house?"

"Not far. Kid has a big, fancy house. You'll like it.” He clucked his tongue, setting the horses in motion. With a firm hold on the reins, he kept the pace slow, trying to keep the dust floating up from beneath the team's feet to a minimum. July was always hot and dry, and this year was no different. He pulled off his hat, plopped it on her head. “We'll have to get you a hat, too,” he said, wondering about the temperature in her time. Was the landscape still the same? The wide open spaces did something for a man—gave him a sense of pride that was hard to explain. He'd hate to think it was all gone.

"Have I told you I'm a millennial?” She broke the silence a few minutes later.

"A what?"

"Some people call it generation y."

He glanced her way, waiting to hear more.

"You see, each generation is very different, they have different thoughts, wants, needs. I don't really know what generation you are, they never taught us about those born before nineteen hundred. You might be rolled into the lost generation. That was the one before the great generation. Then came the baby boomers, then generation x, then the millennials, that's me, and now there's the generation z or vistas."

"Who taught you all this?"

"A professor at the college I attend. He also owns the apartment building where I rent.” She shrugged. “The reason I'm telling you all this is because I may not like Kid's big house. I don't want you to be offended but know where I'm coming from.” She twisted, pointed a finger at her chest. “You see, Professor Rutledge says my generation are multi-taskers and don't plan on staying anywhere for a long time, so therefore, we don't really care for the big houses the generations before us did. We like small, compact places that are easy to take care of so we can get on with life."

Skeeter didn't comment. She'd talked about this professor yesterday too, and he once again noticed how her eyes became glassy when she did so, and he didn't like it. It was as if everything the man had said was the gospel—Skeeter already concluded this professor must be some sort of Bible pusher, all hell and brimstone, and someone he'd like to knock into next week—but right now he wasn't focused on that. His mind had become stuck on one line. The one where she said she didn't plan on staying anywhere for a long time. Like a wallop it reminded him their time together would be short lived. She needed to go back to her time, and he would have to let her—just like his bird.

Funny, he'd always been carefree. Ma called him happy-go-lucky. That was because most things hadn't meant a lot, there was always tomorrow. But in Lila he'd found something he wanted to last forever, and he didn't like the thought of her leaving. It squeezed his guts into tight knots. She was so delightful, so loveable. With a shake of his head, he tried to clear his mind, and sent an encouraging glance her way, silently asking her to go on. He didn't want to dampen their time together with worrisome thoughts.

"My generation is also quite blunt, and we question authority. I mean, think about it, who is the
government
? And why should we
trust
them? All they are is a bunch of old geezers from the great generation who don't know when to retire.” She wrapped her hands around his arm, hugging it. “Anyway, I'll try to bite my tongue, but please don't be offended if I don't like Kid's big house."

There was this way about her that made him happy. So happy. He laughed, pulled his arm from her grasp and wrapped it around her shoulders. “I won't be offended.” Placing a kiss on the top of her head, he said, “Tell me more."

She scooted closer and wrapped her arm around his back. “I don't know what it is about you that turns me into a Chatty Cathy doll.” She frowned, looked at him seriously. “I thought men didn't like women who talk all the time."

Despite the fact he had no idea what a Chatty Cathy doll was, he laughed. “I don't know about other men, but I like hearing you talk. I like listening to what you have to say.” He'd always enjoyed learning about new places and things, had read most every book he could get his hands on, but her tales were better than any story. Listening to her voice was music to his ears.

"Hmm...maybe it's because you don't have a radio, CD, or MP3 player.” Lila laid her head on his shoulder. “Did I tell you my generation is really techno-savvy?” His hard, solid body felt so good, and last night had left her floating on cloud nine. Nothing could dampen her happiness.

"Tell me more,” he encouraged.

She giggled and took great delight in telling him about every invention she could possibly think of, from televisions to space shuttles and everything in between. Without stopping she talked until the wagon rolled around two large pens full of calves and their mommas. Then whatever she'd been saying completely escaped her.

Followed by a huge black lab, Jessie walked across the yard. The loose, white blouse floating around her rounding stomach was like a slap of reality.

Lila glanced around. Yes, she had married the man of her dreams, was being escorted in a horse drawn carriage by the ruggedly, handsome cowboy. But this wasn't some fairytale. It was real. She was in the nineteenth century where they had very few hospitals, no medical insurance, and just like Jessie, she was pregnant. But she had hope—the other girl didn't.

Her joyous, festive mood faded as Skeeter eased the wagon to a halt. He twisted to gaze at her. The wide smile on his face slowly slipped away. “What's wrong?” he asked.

A lump the size of Mount Everest formed in her throat. She couldn't tell him his sister-in-law would most likely die in childbirth. “Nothing,” she lied. “It-it's just the size of their house. You're right it's big, and—and very nice.” She glanced to the house for the first time.

He wrapped her in a solid, hard hug. “It'll be all right. I promise you, everything is going to be all right."

She nodded and hid her face in his chest for a brief moment, wishing she could believe him. Wished everything in this topsy-turvy world she'd been thrown into would be all right. She willed a deep breath to ease her frustration. Knowing Kid and Jessie waited for them forced her to lift her head and smile a greeting.

"Hello,” Jessie said brightly.

"Hi,” she responded. Her heart ached for the couple.

Skeeter helped her down, and the other woman instantly took her hand. “Come on into the house, it's already getting warm out."

"Oh, I guess I hadn't noticed,” Lila said as they walked toward the house. Over her shoulder she watched Skeeter and Kid lead the horses to the barn. The harnesses jingled and hooves clomped. The sounds seemed to echo in her ears, emphasizing a world, a time, where she didn't belong.

"This is Sammy,” Jessie introduced her to the large dog walking beside her knee. “He's never far from my side. I hope you don't mind."

"No, a friend of mine had a lab while we were growing up. They're great dogs.” Lila sighed. “I have a cat, Tabby. He's the independent kind, easy to take care of.” This dread on her shoulders was smothering. “I'm sorry. I guess I'm out of sorts this morning."

Jessie looped an arm through hers. “We'll go inside and have some tea. Maybe that will help. When I was first pregnant, I was so sick tea was the only thing that would stay down."

Lila didn't have the heart to say she wasn't morning sick. She picked up her feet, forced them not to shuffle, and walked up the porch steps. Jessie opened the wide front door and waited for her to enter first. She stepped over the threshold and paused, glancing around the great room. It reminded her of a lodge she'd stayed in while skiing in Colorado several winters ago.

A massive, stone fireplace covered one wall, but it was the picture hanging above the mantle that drew her gaze. A large, framed, canvas painting of Jessie and Kid hung prominently in the center of the stones. Several white-faced cattle dotted the field behind them. They gazed at one another, and the artist had displayed their love so richly it made Lila gasp.

"A young friend of ours painted it. Her name is Eva. She and Willamina live up the road a bit. I think she did a wonderful job."

"She certainly did,” Lila admitted. The painting captured the image of love every ad agency in the future tried to use to sell products. They'd all failed. Something so real couldn't be reproduced with actors. She turned to Jessie. The woman would never leave her husband to come to the future and have her baby. That was as clear as the Kansas summer sky.

"Well, let's go have that tea,” Jessie said, leading the way to the kitchen.

She followed. Her mind was a whirlwind. What could she do? There had to be someway she could assist Jessie, make sure the girl was prepared when her time came. Her heart skipped. Perhaps she did belong here—for a time anyways—long enough to teach Jessie about pregnancies. Yes, everything happens for a reason, and she'd bet her reason was to educate Jessie.

A determined mindset settled. “Do you have a doctor following your pregnancy?” Lila asked as soon as they sat down at a long kitchen table.

"I've seen Doctor Fields in Nixon. When the time comes, he'll ride out for the delivery. But of course I have Ma as well as Kid.” Jessie set a kettle to boil on the wood stove.

Lila bit her lip and tried to think of all the things she'd read about pregnancy. “Are you taking prenatal vitamins?"

"Pre-what?"

She shook her head and sighed. She was going to have to start at square one.

Skeeter glanced toward the house, watching the door close behind Lila and Jessie.

"How are you doing today?” Kid asked as he walked into the barn.

"Fine.” He turned to follow. “I have to ask a favor."

"Ask away."

He shuffled his feet. Admitting his faults all of sudden became extremely hard. They'd never bothered him before, but since he met Lila, he didn't want to be a failure at anything. The way she'd clammed up once she'd seen Kid's house had made him aware of what little he had to offer. He bit his tongue, tried to keep the shame out of his voice. “I don't even have a house, Kid. I've been living in a cave on the land. It's been fine and dandy for just me.” He shook his head. “I can't take Lila back there to live in a cave."

"Well, then I guess we need to load up the boys and some supplies and build you and your bride a house.” Kid slapped his back and turned to unhitch the team.

He stepped over, loosened the other horse's harness. Kid sounded so matter of fact. Like he'd just said gotta unhitch the team, or shoe the gelding. Building a house was a huge undertaking. He glanced at his brother. Was it as simple as Kid made it sound? “I have plenty of money, I've—"

"How is the Bone War going?” Kid interrupted.

His brows furrowed. Maybe he hadn't heard right. This being responsible for someone else was a bit overwhelming. And the love in his chest made keeping his feet on the ground a constant battle.

Kid looked at him expectantly. His mind paused for a moment before he remembered his brother's question. The Bone War had been a bit mind-boggling when he first found out about it, too. He switched trails, answered Kid's question. “Those two fools might kill each other. Cope has hired armies of diggers, and Marsh is only one step behind him."

He'd been astonished when Russell took their first load of dinosaur bones east. Their discovery instantly became the center of attraction for two rich men who were each set on becoming the country's leading authority in the new field of dinosaur paleontology. Each one wanted to be the first to name and claim credit to the findings of new species of dinosaurs. The two men also seemed to have never ending pocketbooks. Through the process, he and Russell were well on their way to becoming very rich men themselves. Scholars out east named the battle between Cope and Marsh, The Bone War, and Skeeter had to agree. The two were certainly at war with each other over old bones, and there were times he felt caught in the cross fire.

"Jessie got a wire from Russell a few days ago. Said it'll be a few more months before he returns."

Skeeter hung a harness over a stall post. “Yeah, he'll stay out there until Cope's men finish the dig to collect payment for their finds."

Kid led one horse, he the other, to the paddock. Frisky at being unhitched, the team raced across the dirt, tails lifted like sails in the wind and clouds of dust swirled beneath their galloping hooves.

"I have to admit, when you two first returned with your dinosaur bones and sharks teeth, I was a bit skeptical.” Kid shook his head.

"A bit?” Skeeter laughed. He knew full well his brother thought he was loco two years ago when he returned with a pocket full of sharks teeth.

Kid nodded. A wide smile covered his face. “Well, maybe more than a bit. But now, I have to admit, I'm right proud of you, Skeeter."

Taken aback, he could do nothing more than ask, “You are?"

"Of course I am. We make our own luck in life.” Kid leaned against the barn door. “You knew what you wanted and went after it. I'm proud of you for doing so, and I'm proud of you for succeeding."

Something puffed in his chest. It felt good. He watched one of the horses lie down to roll on the dry ground, unsure about the feeling. “But I just told you I don't have a house."

"At one time I didn't either. We all start somewhere. You have money."

He nodded. “Plenty."

"Then let's build you a house. It's slow around here right now. I'll leave a couple hands behind to take care of this place and Ma's. Between all of us it won't take long.” Kid turned, walked back inside the barn.

Skeeter stayed put, watching the horses.

"What's really bothering you?” Kid asked from inside the barn.

He turned, glanced around. “You had all this when you married Jessie. I don't have anything to offer Lila."

"That didn't seem to stop her from marrying you."

"Ma's shotgun may have had something to do with that."

Kid laughed. “It played a part in my marriage as well."

He grinned. “That's true."

"I was so scared.” Kid walked back to the doorway, gazed across the pasture.

"What? When were you scared?” He'd have bet his last dollar his older brother had never been afraid of anything in his life.