Badland Bride (16 page)

Ah, hell, who was she trying to fool?

Her shoulders fell and sadness crept over her skin, settled in the pit of her stomach. More than once over the past few weeks she'd thought about keeping this baby. The little life growing inside had started to move. The flutters were gentle and made her tingle with delight. Jessie was right, it was amazing. The movements had also made her question her decision. She even dreamed about keeping the baby. Skeeter would make an awesome father.

She rubbed at the throbbing in her temple. But the people of her generation didn't keep babies just because they were pregnant. They thought about what was best for everyone involved. And in her case, with mounting debts, and the way the baby was conceived, the best alternative was giving the baby up for adoption. Let a couple who couldn't have children give this baby the love and life he or she deserved.

Twisting around, her steps faltered when she caught sight of the yard full of people staring her way. Tears pressed against her eyes. Bowing her head, she dodged around Kid as he strolled toward her.

"Lila?” he softly questioned.

She held up one hand, clearly stating she had nothing to say, and made a mad dash for the solitude of the wagon. Her chest and eyes burned when she finally climbed in and flopped onto the feather tick. Tucking her knees into her chest, she curled into a fetal position, and let the tears flow.

Skeeter crawled out of the long tunnel. He stood, and lifted his hat from where he'd left it on the dirt floor before climbing in the dark hole he'd been digging out for the past two days.

"We've almost dug clear through the hill,” Bug said, pointing at the opening. “You sure there's bones in there?"

Brushing loose dirt off his knees, Skeeter glanced to his youngest brother. The other boys didn't know the real reason for digging the tunnel, and he felt that was best. “I must have been wrong,” he said, patting Bug on the shoulder. “Come on, let's go out in the sunlight for a bit."

"What about the hole?"

"Forget about it. I must have been wrong. There aren't any dinosaur bones there.” He tugged Bug's arm, forcing him to walk to the cave opening.

"Skeeter, are you feeling all right.” Bug shifted his feet a touch. “I mean, you're acting, kind of, well, kind of sad."

A shiver ripped across his shoulders as they stepped into the bright sunlight. How did he tell his little brother he felt like a fly caught on a windowsill? He wasn't caught, there were ways out, but for some reason all he could do was fly against the glass pane, thinking that was the fastest way to the other side. “I guess I just have a lot on my mind,” he admitted.

"I suspect you do.” Bug grinned.

His younger brother's easy chuckle made Skeeter wish he could feel that carefree again. This heavy-heartedness was wearing him out.

Bug scowled, looked at him quizzically. “Lila's a great gal."

"Yes,” he sighed. “Yes, she is.” Just one he couldn't—for the life of him—figure out.

"Our family is really growing, babies on the way and all.” Bug picked up a rock, threw it over the side of the cliff.

Skeeter looked back at the cave. Their family would soon be declining as fast as it had grown. The ride across the prairie the other morning had given his mind a chance to mull and clear some of the haziness. That was when he remembered Lila kept saying ‘we’ when she talked of the future. At first he thought she meant the baby, but the more he thought, the more he realized she meant ‘we’ as in him and her.

He hadn't thought of going to the future with her, actually, he hadn't thought of any one going to the future. The excitement of building the house and barn had kept him rooted in this time. Yes, he'd worked on the tunnel, had engaged the boys to help him, but the end result hadn't really formed. Then. Now, it irritated him like a sliver just under the skin. One that hurt, but couldn't be seen or dug out. Instead it festered, gathered infection until it was a full blown wound.

He'd have to dig the rest of the tunnel out himself. Didn't want to take the chance that his younger brother would find the portal. And when he found it, he'd go to the future with Lila. Maybe there, with the modern medicine she talked so much about, he could convince her to keep the baby.

He already considered the child his, and the thought of being separated from either the infant, or Lila, painfully tore at his chest. He'd miss his family, but it couldn't be helped, just as the way she missed her parents right now couldn't be helped either. He was beyond questioning it all, beyond wondering why things couldn't be different—that's how life is. He'd best just accept his fate, and make the best of it.

He slapped Bug's shoulder. “Let's go down to the dig site, see what they've found there."

"Sure,” Bug said. “You know I've wanted to check the soil there. I'm sure you have oil under this ground. Lots and lots of oil."

Skeeter shook his head, but didn't comment. Lately Bug had become obsessed with a man named Rockefeller from Ohio and his Standard Oil Company. His little brother was forever scavenging for rock tar that everyone knew wasn't good for anything except greasing wagon hubs. Bug on the other hand, swore they were oil seeps, and claimed he'd become an oil man like Rockefeller someday.

Skeeter lifted his saddle and blanket from the beneath the shade tree, flipped them onto his horse. “Well, you can search for your oil while I check to make sure none of Marsh's men are planning an attack on Cope's digging army.” Tightening the cinch, he added, “I never imagined digging bones could be so dangerous."

Bug saddled his horse, and side by side, they rode to the dig site, Skeeter keeping an eye on the waving sea of knee high grass for anything suspicious the entire way. A nagging itch in the back of his mind told him something was going to happen. Something bad. The feeling had been with him for sometime now, and had grown to the point it could no longer be ignored.

Marsh and Cope's Bone War had been going on for almost a decade. The two men stopped at nothing when they thought the other was about to best them. Yokel said they'd found a new species last month, and had sent word about it to Cope.

The trail proved clear and in no time they rode into the encampment. Men loaded several odd sized and shaped crates into the back of a wagon. The bones were packaged carefully before taken to the train to ship east. Each one was wrapped in burlap and nestled in straw before the crates were built around the cargo and nailed closed. Cavalry men guarded the crates twenty-four hours, until they arrived safely in Cope's care.

Slipping off his horse, Skeeter waved a greeting to Yokel.

"The men said your house and barn are almost done, just some finishing touches to be completed,” Yokel said as he extended his hand.

"Yeah,” Skeeter answered, shaking the man's hand, but refusing to converse about his house. The subject felt raw, made his stomach churn. “How it's going here? Any trouble?"

"No, things have been going real well. We'll have everything ready to ship sooner than expected."

Skeeter, at a loss for words, nodded. Now that he was at the site, he realized there was nothing for him to do here. It had just been filler, a time waster while he contemplated his life. Would there ever be a time he felt in control again? When he could just live?

He turned to Bug. “I forgot something back at the cave. And I ah—have to see if I can locate Buffalo Killer. You can hang around here or head to the house, which ever you prefer."

"You want me to come with you?” Bug frowned, looking utterly confused.

Skeeter couldn't fault him, he was confused, too. Yokel kicked a boot at the ground. The digger, too, probably wondered what he was doing at the site. Why he wasn't at his new house, with his new wife. Thankfully, neither man questioned him, for he had no idea what lie he would be able to come up with. “No, I'll be back tonight or tomorrow."

"Well, all right, I'll wait here for you. Hang around, check some soil samples.” Bug glanced to the land surrounding the dig site.

Skeeter gave a slight wave to Yokel and remounted. All of a sudden an urgency to complete the tunnel tugged at him. He urged the horse into a canter. While he rode, his mind joggled and jostled, from Lila to the baby, from his family to hers. What would he do if the tunnel didn't work?

Halfway to the cave, a bareback rider crested the hill on the horizon. Skeeter tugged his rifle out of the scabbard hanging off his saddle, waved it above his head. The rider signaled back and turned his mount to descend the hill. Skeeter watched the rider maneuver around the buck brush and sandstone boulders with one eye, and used the other to gaze about, checking for any other riders.

Buffalo Killer stopped a few yards ahead of him. “I look for you."

"Why?"

"Strange man at cave."

"Did you talk to him?"

"No. I look for you."

"Maybe it was one of my brothers,” Skeeter suggested.

"No, he like her."

"Like her?” Goosebumps rose on his arms. “Like Lila?"

"From future.” Buffalo Killer nodded, turned his gaze in the direction of the cave.

An eerie sensation crept up his spine. Skeeter slapped the leather reins across his horse and hunched over the saddle horn. The tunnel wasn't done; no one could have climbed through it. Buffalo Killer's horse tore up the ground beside him as they raced ahead.

The Kansas weather can change in a heartbeat, and did so. Dark, thick storm clouds rolled in and hovered overhead, turning the sky a dark gray-green. Large drops of rain started to fall as they arrived at the Badlands. Dirt and dust flew about as they skidded to a halt just inside the cave opening. Buffalo Killer dismounted beside him, and silently they moved deeper into the cave.

Long flashes of lightning reflected off the walls. The quick strips of light lit the darkened area for split seconds. Long enough for Skeeter to recognize someone had been there. The gear he kept stowed was spewed about. He kicked the dented coffee pot out of the way, moved toward the tunnel entrance. Crouched down, he flipped his hat off before he crawled into the opening.

Thunder rumbled the ground, making loose dirt crumble as he moved forward. His mind searched, trying to figure out who Buffalo Killer could have seen. Was it someone else from the future, or was it one of his family or Kid's cowhands who'd come looking for him? A cool breeze brushed over his face, he increased his speed. A minute later, he came to an opening. How had this happened? When he and Bug left there'd still been a good three or four feet to dig through.

He stuck his head out. Rain beat against his cheeks, and lightning lit the sky. The opening was about two feet off the ground, up the side of the cliff. There was no farm house, no out buildings, no red horseless carriage with
Mustang GT
written on the side.

He wiped the rain trickling in his eyes, and felt the slime of mud streak his cheeks. Cupping his hands, he let the rain water fill them and then splashed his face.

Lightning continued to light the grassland and highlighted the whiteness of Castle Rock standing tall and proud in the middle of the prairie. He twisted and squirmed until he'd turned about, and began to crawl back toward the cave.

When he popped his head out, Buffalo Killer had a fire blazing in the pit. Skeeter crawled out and grabbed his hat as he moved closer to the flames.

"What you see?"

"Nothing. The tunnel goes all the way to the side of the hill.” He knelt down, poked at the flames with a narrow stick. “It had to have been one of my brothers or a ranch hand you saw."

"No,” Buffalo Killer stated.

He threw the stick in the fire. “That tunnel goes no where my friend. Definitely not to the future."

Buffalo Killer shrugged.

"Which direction did the man you saw go?"

"To the bone ground."

"See, it had to be one of my family members. Probably looking for Bug and me."

"On foot?"

An eerie sensation walked over his neck, he snapped his head up. “What?"

"The man walked. No horse."

A large flash of lightning accompanied by an ear-piercing crack of thunder spooked the horses and prevented Skeeter from answering. He moved to where Buffalo Killer had staked their mounts near the cave entrance. The animals stomped at the ground, tugged on their reins. He stood between them, talking low and slow as their wild eyes gazed about. When they settled, hung their heads, he moved back to the fire. “What are you doing?"

Buffalo Killer looked up from the box he'd pulled closer to the light of the flames. “I hunger.” His smile grew wide. Light bounced off his white teeth as he held up a can of peaches. “You hunger?"

"Yeah, give me a can,” Skeeter said, pulling his knife from his boot.

They opened the cans and proceeded to eat the fruit off the tips of their knives. It was several hours, and long after Buffalo Killer ate half a dozen cans of peaches before the storm calmed enough for them to leave the cave.

A slight drizzle hung in the air and chunks of hail melted on the ground. Skeeter was thankful the storm had happened today, not some time during the past three weeks while they had been living in the wagons. Lila should be safe and dry in the new house they'd built. His heart gave a quick thud at the thought. How had he come to love her so much? She'd turned his life upside down. But it was a nice flop. He'd never really had big plans for the future, had been content to let life roll out as it may.

Since she'd arrived with her bright red curls and tickling laughter, he'd found himself dreaming and making goals, wanting things he'd never thought much about before. A house, furniture, hell, he even wanted the fancy dishes he bought.

He was no closer to understanding why she felt compelled to give away the baby. His heart rate increased. How was he going to let her give their baby to strangers? Having a son or daughter was the one thing he found he wanted the most. He thought of the baby as theirs. Already loved the child—couldn't wait to hold it in his arms. It didn't matter that he wasn't the father. Ma wasn't Kid's real mother, but she loved him no different from the rest of the boys.