Journey to Yesterday (17 page)

Daisy looked at Alejandro, naked longing in her eyes, before
she turned and walked away.

“We’ll make her leave town with us, won’t we?” Shaye asked.

“Sure, darlin’, even if we have to hogtie her.”

Shaye squeezed his hand, her attention drawn back to the contest
as, with a triumphant shout, a young Mexican riding a wild-eyed bay pulled the
rooster from the ground.

“Well,” Shaye exclaimed, “I’ve never seen anything like
that.”

Alejandro grinned at her. “Guess they don’t do that in the
year two thousand.”

“Not that I know of.”

“Come on, let’s go get a beer. All this dust has given me a
powerful thirst.”

Members of The Miners’ Union were dispensing beer from a keg
in front of the firehouse. Alejandro got two glasses. Shaye sipped hers slowly,
amazed, once again, to find herself in this time and place. Women in long
dresses and their Sunday best bonnets stood in small groups, talking about
babies, exchanging recipes, complaining about the dirt and the dust. A bunch of
men were playing horseshoes across the street. Someone was playing
Oh, Dem
Golden Slippers
on the piano at the Sawdust Saloon down the street. And
overall hung a haze of dust, and the ever-present sound of the Standard Stamp
mill.

There were games and contests throughout the day—a
pie-eating contest, a shooting contest, a wash tub where kids bobbed for
apples, a cake walk. The Poet of the Day recited a dozen poems. A barber shop
quartet sang
My Old Kentucky Home
and
Silver Threads Among the Gold
and
Jeanie With the Light Brown Hair
. There was a baseball game between
the Odd Fellows and the Masons.

And that night, there was a dance.

“Don’t we have to go the Queen tonight?” Shaye remarked as
they went back to the hotel to change.

Alejandro shrugged. “And miss a chance to dance with the
prettiest girl in town?”

“So we’re just not going to show up?”

“I told Rojas last night that we wouldn’t be there.”

“Had it all planned out, eh?” she teased, and felt her heart
swell with happiness because he wanted to spend time with her, because, when
she looked into his eyes, she saw the answer to every unspoken hope, every
longed for dream.

When they reached the door of her room, he drew her into his
arms. His kiss, when it came, was long and deep and filled with promise.

“Pick you up in an hour?” he asked, his voice husky.

“I’ll be ready.”

It was, she mused, going to be a night to remember.

Shaye looked around the hall, amazed and delighted with what
she saw. The lamps, turned low, filled the room with a soft amber light. At
least a dozen tables were crowded together at one end of the hall. The women of
the town must have been baking for days, she thought. She could almost hear the
tables groaning beneath the weight of all the desserts heaped upon them: two
layer cakes, apple pies, sugar cookies, and cobblers.

The dance floor was crowded with couples, the women looking
like colorful butterflies as their partners twirled them around the room.

Alejandro swept her into his arms and soon they were caught
up in the crush.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look in that dress?” he
remarked.

She smiled up at him. “Yes, but tell me again.”

“You’re the prettiest girl here,” he said. “The color makes
your eyes glow like emeralds.”

Shaye laughed softly. “You sweet talker, you.”

His gaze moved over her face, lingering on her lips. “I mean
every word.”

How could she doubt him, when he was looking at her like
that? She was acutely aware of his arm around her waist, of the warmth of his
hand holding hers, of the way their bodies swayed together, as if they had been
dancing together for years. He drew her closer, so that, with each movement,
his body brushed against hers, teasing, tantalizing.

How handsome he was. His black coat was the perfect foil for
his long black hair and deep brown eyes. Her gaze moved over his mouth and when
he smiled, she knew he was aware of her thoughts, knew that she was wishing
they were alone.

Leaning forward, he whispered, “Later,” in her ear.

When the music ended, Lottie Johl sashayed toward them. “Rio
Valverde,” she exclaimed, jabbing the end of her closed fan against his chest,
“didn’t you tell me you had to work tonight?”

Alejandro’s arm curled around Shaye’s shoulders. “There was
a change of plans, Miss Lottie.”

Lottie looked at Shaye and winked. “Yes, I can see that. And
a mighty pretty change she is, too.”

Alejandro laughed. It was a full, rich, wonderful masculine
sound, and it wrapped around Shaye’s heart like a warm blanket on a cold day.

“You saved me a dance, just in case, didn’t you?” Alejandro
asked.

Lottie opened her fan with a snap. “What do you think?”

“I think your dance card is full,” he said, a woeful
expression on his face.

Lottie batted her eyelashes at him. “Of course it is,” she
replied with a saucy grin, “and one of them is yours.”

“Let me know which one,” he said, “and I’ll be there.” He
glanced down at Shaye. “As long as my lady has no objections.”

Shaye pretended to think about it for a moment, then sighed
dramatically. “I suppose I can spare you for one dance,” she said, faking a
much put-upon expression.

“I will see you later, then,” Lottie said. She smiled at the
man walking toward her. “George,” she said, pouting prettily as she placed her
hand on his arm, “I thought you had forgotten all about me.”

Shaye shook her head as the man swept Lottie onto the dance
floor. “Oh, look,” she said, “there’s Madame Sophie.”

The dressmaker looked elegant in a gown of black and white
striped taffeta. She nodded at Shaye, smiled at Alejandro as she swept past on
her husband’s arm.

“Shall we?” Alejandro asked, gesturing at the dance floor.

“Yes,” Shaye answered, and felt a thrill run through her as
he drew her in his arms again.

She stared at one of the couples waltzing by, recognizing
James and Martha Cain from the photograph in the guidebook.

As the evening went on, she heard other names that were
familiar: Henry Metzger, S.B. Burkham, Frank McDonnell, Tom Miller. Lester
Bell. It was unreal, she thought. She was actually here, in the past, mingling
with people she had read about in the guidebook.

It was a wonderful night, filled with magic. The band played
waltzes and polkas, and a quadrille, which she discovered was very much like
square dancing back home. As usual, the men far outnumbered the women, and
while Alejandro danced with Lottie and Sophie, Shaye danced with Henry and
Spooner, both of whom paid her outrageous compliments.

She was shocked when Dade McCrory asked her to dance. Taken
by surprise, she let him lead her onto the dance floor. She glanced around the
room, looking for Alejandro, saw him dancing with Addy Mae.

“So,” McCrory said, “it’s all over town about you and
Valverde.”

“What’s all over town?” Shaye asked.

“You know, how the two of you are sharing a room.”

“I don’t see as how what I do is any of your business,”
Shaye retorted.

His arm tightened around her waist.“I’d like to make you my
business.”

“No way!” She jerked her head back when he tried to kiss
her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Come on, honey, I’ll bet that damned ‘breed can’t please
you near as good as I can.”

“That’s enough, McCrory!”

“Go to hell, Valverde, we’re dancin’ here.”

“Not anymore. Take your hands off her!”

“Sure, sure,” Dade said. He backed away from Shaye, nodding
and smiling and then, with no warning, he drove his fist into Alejandro’s face.

Alejandro staggered backward. Slowly, he lifted the back of
his hand to his mouth.

The dancers nearest Alejandro and McCrory stopped dancing.
Like ripples in a pond, silence spread around the three of them until even the
band fell silent.

Shaye stared at the blood dripping from Alejandro’s mouth,
clenched her hands as he lunged at McCrory. The two men reeled backward,
crashing into one of the tables. Punch slopped over the sides of the bowl to
stain the white lace cloth.

A sense of helpless frustration rose up in Shaye. How could
he fight? He hadn’t healed up from his last encounter with that vile man.

Several women screamed as Alejandro and Dade began to trade
blows. The men cheered them on. She felt a sense of déjà vu as she overheard
several of them making bets on the outcome. Most favored Alejandro to win.

“Men! They are such…such animals!”

Shaye turned her head and saw Miss Sophie standing beside
her.

Miss Sophie clucked softly. “Every year it is the same!
Always the fight.”

Shaye nodded, only half listening as the dressmaker went on
and on about men and how they spoiled every get-together.

She took a step forward, craning her neck to see what was
happening. Alejandro was pummeling McCrory, his fists making a dull thudding
sound as he struck McCrory again and again.

“All right, that’s enough.” The crowd parted as the sheriff
pushed his way through. “What the devil’s going on here?”

Philo Richardson caught the sheriff’s arm. “Nothing for you
to be concerned about, Sheriff, just a little spat over a pretty woman.”

Alejandro stood up and moved to Shaye’s side.

Two men helped McCrory to his feet.

“Who started the ruckus?” the sheriff asked, his gaze moving
from Alejandro to McCrory and back again.

Neither man said anything.

The sheriff grunted. “So, that’s the way it’s gonna be.”

“Now, Sheriff, why make a fuss?” Philo asked good-naturedly.
“It’s not the first time two men have squabbled over a woman, and it sure as
hell won’t be the last.”

“I reckon you’re right about that,” the sheriff said.

“Sure.” Philo slapped the sheriff on the arm. “Let’s go over
to the Sawdust. I’ll buy you a drink.”

The sheriff fixed Alejandro and McCrory with a warning
glance. “No more fightin’,” he said gruffly, “or I’ll lock ya both up.”

Alejandro nodded, his gaze on McCrory, who was walking away,
one arm wrapped protectively around his rib cage.

“Remember what I said,” the sheriff warned, then followed
Philo Richardson out the door.

Shaye looked up at Alejandro. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he
wiped the blood from his mouth, ran his hand through his hair. “Come on, let’s
dance.”

She was conscious of the stares they received as Alejandro
waltzed her around the floor, but she refused to let it bother her, refused to
let anything spoil this night. She was all too aware of time passing, of the
fact that she could be whisked back to her own time at any moment, that every
second she spent with Alejandro might be her last.

Thirty minutes later, the band took a break.

“Let’s go outside,” Alejandro suggested.

“All right.”

Shaye picked up two cups of apple cider and a napkin and
they left the building. They found a relatively quiet place behind the hall.
Using the napkin, Shaye wiped the a spot of blood from the corner of
Alejandro’s mouth, then handed him a cup of cider. She sipped hers slowly.

It was a beautiful night. The sky was like rich, dark
velvet; a vast indigo vault peppered with millions and millions of twinkling
silver stars accented by a bright butter-yellow moon.

On this night she was only dimly aware of the noise and the dust
and the people. On this night, she was mainly aware of the man standing beside
her, of the way her skin tingled whenever he touched her, the way her pulse
raced and her heart beat fast in anticipation of the time when they would be
alone in her room, just the two of them.

Putting her empty cup on an overturned crate, she moved
closer to Alejandro, placed her hand on his chest. “Are you all right? Your
arm…”

“I’m fine, darlin’, stop worrying.” He gazed deep into her
eyes. Put his cup down next to hers. Wrapped her in his embrace. “Shaye…”

His kiss was warm and sweet, filled with promise and an
unspoken question.

Her heart was pounding with anticipation when he took his
lips from hers. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

Every saloon they passed was overflowing with miners and
townspeople. There were gatherings at most of the houses, as well, and another
dance at the Odd Fellows Hall. They passed a group of older boys who were
lighting firecrackers and blowing up bottles and tin cans.

Shaye paid little attention to the noise and the music and
the people. Every sense was attuned to the man walking beside her, to the feel
of her hand in his. Soon, she thought, soon she would be in his arms. The
thought was exhilarating, and frightening. She hadn’t been sexually intimate
with a man since her divorce. She’d had offers, of course, but sex without
love, without any meaning other than the gratification of the moment held no
appeal. She recalled a line from a movie, something about women needing a
reason and men just needing a place. The thought made her smile, and then gave
her pause. Was that all she was to Alejandro? Just a place? He’d never said he
loved her, never mentioned love at all. Of course, neither had she. When had
she fallen in love with him? Did anyone really know the exact moment when the
magic happened, or why?

Alejandro squeezed her hand and she looked up, felt the
warmth of his gaze seep into her very soul.

The hotel lobby was practically empty. The clerk glanced up
from the paper he was reading when they stepped inside. Shaye paid him hardly
any attention, too caught up in Alejandro’s nearness, and what was about to
happen between them, to spare a thought for anything, or anyone, else. Until a
woman in a bright-red dress emerged from a shadowy corner.

Alejandro swore softy as Daisy staggered toward them.

Shaye felt a wave of pity sweep through her as Daisy threw
her arms around Alejandro’s neck.

“Rio!”

“Daisy, what are you doing here?” He tried to disengage her
arms from around his neck, but she clung to him like a burr to a saddle
blanket.

“You don’t need her!” Daisy said, sobbing. “You don’t need
anyone but me. I’ll make you happy, Rio, I’ll… “

“Daisy, that’s enough.”

“Get her out of here,” the clerk called. “This is a decent
establishment. We don’t want her kind in here.”

Alejandro quelled the desk clerk’s outburst with a single
withering glance, then he looked at Shaye over the top of Daisy’s head. “She’s
drunk. I’d better take her home.”

Shaye nodded.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Alejandro said, and there
was a wealth of promise in his voice.

Daisy leaned heavily against him as he guided her out of the
hotel. Outside, the streets seemed uncharacteristically empty. She stumbled
once, and he slipped his arm around her waist to steady her.

Alejandro nodded at several men as they neared White Street.

“She ain’t gonna be any use to ya tonight,” one of the
miners called out good-naturedly.

“That’s right, Rio,” came a honeyed voice. “Why don’t you
come see me instead?”

Alejandro winked at the scantily-clad woman leaning over the
railing in front of the saloon on the corner. “Some other time, Katie me
darlin’,”

Alejandro was practically carrying Daisy by the time they
reached her house. Deciding that would be easier, he swung her into his arms,
opened the front door, and carried her through the dark house to her bedroom.

She clung to him when he put her down on the bed. “Don’t
leave me.”

“I’m here.” He disengaged her hands from his neck, kissed
her cheek. “Just lie still.”

Alejandro reached for the matches on the bedside table, his
fingers brushing against the derringer he had given her. He lit the lamp,
turned the wick down when she groaned and turned away from the light.

He removed her boots and stockings, slipped off her
petticoats, drew her dress over her head. He found her nightgown and helped her
into it, then tucked her beneath the covers.

“I’m sorry.” She reached for him again, capturing his hand
in hers. “Don’t be angry.”

“I’m not angry with you.”

“I love you, Rio. I’ll never love…” She hiccoughed. “Never
love anyone else. Just you.” She squeezed his hand. “Just you. We could be
happy, Rio.” She looked up at him through wide, hopeful eyes. “I know we could,
if you’d just…just give us a chance.”