Badland Bride (14 page)

"You search for them too?” she asked, her gaze going back to the dig site.

"Not any more. I did in the beginning, but after Russell took the first specimens to New York, Cope paid us a goodly some so he could be the only one to dig here. He sends out experienced diggers. Besides, Russell and I had already found plenty, quite a stock pile actually. Russell is still out there selling them to museums and colleges."

He climbed down as two men exited a tent and approached the wagon. She scooted over, held her arms out for aid. Once settled on the ground, she asked, “Are they worth much?"

"The bones?"

She nodded.

"More than Russell or I ever imagined.” Skeeter shrugged. It had been exciting at first, all the money rolling in. But it hadn't taken him long to realize a rich man is not the one with the most money, but the one who needs the least. At this moment in time he knew there was nothing he needed. He had it all. Lila and a good chunk of land that would provide every thing they'd require. Taking her arm, they walked to meet Yokel and his sidekick Johansson. The men's clothes were covered with the fine, white dust of the Badlands, and their eyes looked like two burnt red holes in a white blanket.

"Hello, Mr. Quinter,” Nelson Yokel greeted. “Ma'am,” he added tipping his hat to Lila.

"Yokel,” Skeeter extended his hand, “How's it going?"

Johansson stopped a few feet behind Nelson, and Skeeter didn't encourage him to step closer. The man was a shifty sort, and he'd just a soon Lila didn't have anything to do with him.

"Pretty good, but we're glad to see you. We've had some Indian trouble,” Yokel said.

Lila stiffened beside him. He wrapped his arm around her waist, patted her side. “What sort of trouble?"

"Nothing really, just things missing and broken—” Yokel started.

"There's a band of Sioux watching us from the cliffs everyday. It has to be them,” Johansson interrupted. The man was scrawny and always fidgeting, like he couldn't stand still.

Skeeter glanced around. A quick flash of light glistened from the ridge. The signal allowed him to relax. “It's just Buffalo Killer. I asked him to keep an eye on things for a few days.” He scratched his jaw, wondering if he should voice his concern that the braves wouldn't break or steal things. If that was happening, it was someone besides the Sioux.

Yokel gave a short nod.

Johansson crossed his arms. “Who's Buffalo Killer?"

"A friend of mine,” Skeeter said, his tone firmly ending the conversation.

Johansson lips puckered like he'd just sucked on a lemon, and then he flipped around, walked back toward the tent.

Skeeter remained silent. Yokel's glance roamed from the departing man to Lila. He looked between the two of them. When the man's gaze settled on him, Skeeter offered, “This is Mrs. Quinter, my wife.” Pride filled his chest at the introduction. The boastfulness she instilled in him was still a bit confounding.

Yokel's eyes popped open like a frogs. “Oh, I didn't know you were married.” He removed his hat, bowed his head with respect. “It's a pleasure, ma'am."

"Hello,” she returned with a graceful tilt of her chin.

Skeeter nodded to the wagons behind them. “My family is with me. We're going to raise a house a few miles from here."

"Oh, well, let us know if there's something we can do to help,” Yokel offered.

"How much longer will this dig last?” He glanced around the large camp, knowing when the time came the entire site could be packed up and lugged away in less than a day.

Yokel replaced his hat. “A month or so. We'll need to head out long before fall. Want to be well settled in New York before winter hits."

Skeeter offered his hand to the man. When Yokel took it, he said, “All right. We may take you up on your offer when we set the rafters."

"We'll look forward to the change in pace.” He tipped his hat to Lila again. “Nice meeting you ma'am."

"Good-bye,” she offered and they turned to walk back to the wagon. Away from the men, where no one else could hear, she asked, “Do you still have Indian attacks in this time?"

Her face was full of worry. His hand roamed up her back to cup her upper arm so he could tug her closer to his side. “No, there hasn't been an attack in several years. Easterners are still fearful from all the tales they've heard about the west. But you don't have anything to worry about; Buffalo Killer's band is friendly. And I brought several more gifts to keep them on our good side.” He'd have traded all the dinosaur bones on earth to keep another worry from entering her mind. As it was she had way too many going on in that pretty little head of hers.

They stopped near the wagon. “It's just their ghost dances that are dangerous?” she asked.

He glanced at her face. A smile twitched his lips as he read the teasing glint in her eyes. His heart tumbled at seeing a touch of her happy spirit, the one he loved so much. Mindless of the twenty diggers and soldiers nearby, as well as his family sitting in the hot sun, he pulled her into a deep, long-lasting kiss. When they separated, smiling, he said, “Yes, it's just their wonderful ghost dances that are quite dangerous."

She giggled as he lifted her onto the wagon, and the way she snuggled next to him the rest of the way to the house site he'd picked out, made his heart soar like the eagles overhead. But his happiness was bittersweet. He couldn't be happy while she was so distraught. Wasn't that how it was suppose to be? When one partner isn't happy, neither is the other. His mind sought a way to balance it all. There had to be a way for him to ease her sorrow and accept the bliss she instilled in him at the same time.

As the horses plodded up the last hill, before they would circle around the thick grove of trees a notion came to him. Skeeter squeezed her shoulder. “Perhaps they don't know you're missing yet."

Lila glanced at him, brows furrowed with confusion.

"Your parents, perhaps they don't know you're missing yet."

"Oh,” she murmured. A thoughtful gaze went back to the landscape. “I've been gone almost a week. We talk on the phone every few days. By now they'll at least be wondering why I haven't called."

"Well, I've been thinking and maybe time isn't the same there."

She shook her head, let out a little sigh. “Time is the same. There are still twenty-four hours in a day, seven days in a week."

"I know. But I was a ghost for a long time, yet when I got back, I had only been gone overnight. Maybe that's how it is for you."

Her eyes grew wide, and she nibbled on her bottom lip. After a bit, she said, “How long did it feel like you were in the house?"

He shrugged. “I don't know. But I saw a lot of things, and it felt like a very long time."

"Hmm,” she mumbled.

The way one finger tapped her chin made a smile tugged at his lips. It had seemed like he was in the future for years, and yet, he'd only been gone a few hours. He crossed two fingers. If it was that way for her, too, he'd have time to get everything settled here before he took her home.

Lila folded her hands behind her back. Satisfaction of a job well done made her grin like a Cheshire cat. For the past three weeks, she'd been so busy she hadn't had time to think, let alone worry. Some of the diggers had come to help, not the ones trained to dig out the precious bones, but the ones with strong backs. A handful of soldiers had come as well. Between them, the ranch hands, and the brothers, a solid, quaint house had grown to stand tall and proud on the grassy prairie. Large sandstone blocks cut from the bluffs near the cave made the foundation, and timber had been cut from the large grove of trees near the twisting stream flowing behind the house site.

The women had been as busy as the men. Ma Quinter sewed curtains, braided rugs, and made cushions for parlor chairs Skeeter had unloaded from one of the wagons. Lila's grin widened at the memory. Two days ago, she'd laughed out loud at seeing the large crates full of chair parts. It appeared the nation had been founded on ‘some assembly required.'

Not a person had been idle. Jessie had set about putting the kitchen in order, even before the house had been finished. She'd unpacked crates of dishes, pans, and utensils Lila stilled didn't recognize, and at times wondered about. Before they'd left Nixon, Skeeter had practically cleaned out the only store in town. What they hadn't had in stock, he'd ordered and paid to have it delivered to their new home when it arrived. A wagon load arrived every other day.

Lila lifted her face, let her gaze scrutinize the large structure—the house she'd designed. Kid had drawn a plan, but Skeeter insisted she approve each inch of the drawings and the construction. At first she'd been reluctant to say anything, but after her first few suggestions were taken favorably, she became bolder. The process not only amazed her, it enthralled. There wasn't a part of it she hadn't been engrossed in. Day by day the house had been pieced together like a 3-D puzzle.

The men had mixed handmade concrete this morning and now were constructing large blocks of sandstone into a stunning fireplace on the back wall of the living room. She stepped aside, making room for one of the ranch hands to push the wheelbarrow full of mud up the wide plank and onto the porch. She glanced about. One of the large cement trucks, with a turning drum and stinking diesel fuel like she'd often seen in the future, was no where in sight. The men had mixed natural materials from the earth to mold the blocks together. A deep satisfying sigh exhaled. She hadn't enjoyed participating in something so much in a very long time—not since she'd moved into her apartment, and met Professor Rutledge, who within that first year had convinced her to switch her degree from early childhood to Information Technology. A quiver touched her spine. Nothing about the career shift had been fun, but he'd explained there was no money in teaching, and if she wanted to be able to afford to live on her own, he'd said, she better go into computers.

"Lila, you have to see these!” Jessie, perched in the shade of a tall cottonwood tree, waved a hand.

A frown formed as she noticed the large crates surrounding her sister-in-law. No matter how much she encouraged Jessie to relax, the woman was forever finding something to do. Lila sent a final glance toward the men. Her gaze touched on the bronze back of her husband. Even from a distance, she could see the muscles moving as he hefted the blocks in place. He worked twice as hard as the other men, and yet every night he had the energy to love her inside out before she fell asleep in his solid embrace.

His head lifted, slowly turned until his gaze met hers. He winked at her, and a ripple of happiness made her giggle as she fluttered her fingers at him before turning to walk to the tree. She'd never known one person could make another so happy all the time. Her gaze landed on Jessie, and a heavy weight settled in her chest. Nor one who could frustrate the dickens out of her.

The other girl patted the quilt spread out on the ground. “Here, sit down. You must see this china. It's beautiful."

Lila sat. “You should be taking a nap."

"It's not even noon yet.” Jessie held out a tea cup. “Look at this, it has gilded edges."

"Yes, that's nice. But I've told you before—you have to take it easy. And I don't think you should be breathing in all the dust from the straw these dishes are packed in."

The other woman let out a long sigh, set the cup on top of a pile of stiff, yellow straw. “Lila, I love you like a sister. But you have to stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop badgering me,” she said more harshly than normal. With a hint of shame in her eyes, Jessie glanced around. “It's making Kid nervous."

Lila rolled her eyes. Kid was a nice man, a wonderful brother. But the way everyone bowed to his every word, drove her crazy. “Kid should know better than to let you work all the time. Your condition—"

"My baby is going to be fine. I'm going to be fine,” Jessie snapped.

Shocked, Lila glanced at her sister-in-law.

Jessie covered her face with both hands, shook her head. The large dog at her side perked his ears and then laid his head on the pink material of her dress. Jessie patted his black head with one hand. “Lila, I didn't want to tell you this, but you give me no choice. Kid's mother died giving birth. All of your—
concern
—about me is making him question my safety, the baby's safety. You have to stop."

She knew it!
Knew having a baby was incredibly dangerous. Finally someone else agreed with her. “So he understands what I've been saying?"

Jessie shook her head, almost as if she was frustrated, and then she reached over. Her fingers warm as they wrapped around Lila's hand. “I know you're worried about me and the baby. And about your own pregnancy. But please, you have to stop."

Lila didn't comment. Couldn't. She didn't want to cause Jessie more frustration by saying she wasn't worried about
her
baby.
She'd
be safe in the twenty-first century—with a gaggle of doctors to make sure—by the time her due date rolled around. Skeeter's declaration of how he'd been in the future for some time, but had returned to the past only a few hours after he'd left had convinced her that's what happened to her. When she and Skeeter traveled through the tunnel, they'd find her Mustang and go home to Hays in plenty of time for her to have a healthy pregnancy and delivery. Most likely it will be the same day she'd arrived in the past. No, she had nothing to worry about, but Jessie certainly did.

"Lila?” Jessie said. “You do understand what I'm saying, don't you?"

Lila let out a deep sigh, giving an agreeable nod. She'd have to be more cautious with her warnings. Jessie must be terribly worried. How dare Kid tell her about his mother? He should know better than to cause his wife extra concern.

"You have become the sister I never had. I don't want us to be cross with one another, but I can't have Kid worrying so either.” Jessie squeezed her hand a touch tighter. “You do understand, don't you?"

"You don't want Kid worrying?"

"No, I don't want him worrying.” Jessie's gaze wandered to her husband. “He's so wonderful. He's my whole world. And he's been working so hard.” She glanced back. “I don't want him worrying about me when he has so many other things on his mind. I'm sure you feel the same way about Skeeter."