Stay With Me (34 page)

“I’m not who you think I am.”

He seemed to consider that. “Go on,” he
said.

“I’m not your sister-in-law and I was never
married to Peter.”

He shook his head. “That’s nonsense. I saw
the license myself.”

“Before last week, I’d never been in
Cedarbrook. I’d never even heard of it.”

“Sarah,” he said, his voice soft. “You’ve had
a difficult night. You need some sleep.”

“I was born about a hundred years from
now.”

He swallowed, the muscles of his strong neck
visibly working.

“My name is Sarah Jane Tremont and I’ve lived
my whole life in California. I was walking on the beach and I got
swallowed up by a big wave. The next thing I knew, I was flat on my
back, about a mile from your house.”

His face lost all color. When he stood, his
movements were uncoordinated. “Sarah, if this is some kind of
joke—”

“It’s no joke. I’m telling you that on the
seventeenth of April, I awoke in my own bed, went to work, had some
chicken for lunch, and when I went to bed that night, I was
sleeping on your mattress. I somehow traveled back in time. I don’t
know how and I don’t know why. I just know that I did.”

“It’s impossible,” he said, shaking his
head.

“I would have thought so, too. I thought if I
told you the truth, you’d think I was crazy.”

He sat down hard on the chair. “Crazy? Why
would I think that?” He laughed, a shaky, brittle chuckle.

“It’s true. When I realized that you’d mixed
me up with your sister-in-law, I didn’t correct you. I was scared.
So I pretended to be her.”

“Her?”

“Sarah One. Or at least, that’s what I call
her.”

He stood up and began to pace, taking five
steps forward, then five back. Finally, he stopped and stared at
her, his eyes dark with pain. “You’ve been in Cedarbrook for ten
days. Why tell me this now?”

Because I love you.
She shook her
head. “I guess because I’ll be getting on a train in Cheyenne and
I’ll never see you again. I wanted you to know the truth.”

John picked his hat up off the hook and
slapped it against his leg. “The truth? None of this makes any
sense. I don’t know who the hell you are. Here’s what I do know.
You may not be Sarah Beckett but the two of you have a lot in
common. She was a liar, too.”

***

John stepped off the wooden sidewalk and
checked the saddle on his horse, making sure it was still cinched
tight. He couldn’t stay in this town another minute. Knowing it
would be foolish to travel without water, he lifted the flap of his
saddlebag and yanked out his canteen. The envelope, the one he’d
picked up from Harry Pierce and had been carrying around for days,
fell in the dirt. He’d forgotten all about it.

He picked it up, dusted it off, and started
to stuff it back in his saddlebag. Hell, maybe before he left, he’d
take a few dollars of his cattle money and go have a big steak and
a bottle of whiskey to go with it. Maybe then he’d quit acting like
an ass. Sarah didn’t want him. She’d resorted to making up wild
stories to drive him away.

He ripped the envelope open, and when he
unfolded the single sheet, paper money fell into his hand. Way more
money than he was owed for the cattle. He sat down on the sidewalk
and began to read.

Dear Mr. Beckett,

Please allow me to introduce myself. My name
is Franklin Wimberly, and by profession, I am an attorney at law.
It is in this capacity that I regret to inform you of the passing
of your sister-in-law, Sarah Beckett. Mrs. Beckett became ill
following a most serious accident with her horse. She passed from
this life on the seventeenth of April.

Prior to Mrs. Beckett’s unfortunate demise,
she being of sound mind and counsel, asked that following her
death, the sum of three thousand and two hundred dollars be
returned to you along with her gravest apologies for any injustice
done or unhappiness brought upon your family.

Her last thought on earth was a wish that she
could have returned to Cedarbrook and made amends somehow.

My most sincere regards,

Franklin Wimberly

John leaned his head against the hitching
post and closed his eyes. After several deep breaths, he opened
them and read the letter twice more.

The day she’d left, Peter’s wife had taken
with her thirty-two hundred dollars. It had to be true. She was
dead. She’d passed from this life on the seventeenth of April.

What was it that Sarah had said? She’d woken
up in her own bed on the seventeenth of April and ended up on his
mattress.

Was it possible that Sarah, the woman
upstairs who drove him to sheer madness, had somehow come back in
time—perhaps at the exact time his sister-in-law had passed from
this life? How could it be?

Somehow it was. He knew it. He could see the
look in her eyes when he’d called her a liar. She hadn’t been
lying.

She’d forgiven him once for accusing her of
something she was innocent of. Would she be so willing a second
time? “Oh, God,” he said.

“What do you have to ‘Oh, God’ about?”

John jerked his head up. George stood less
than three feet away, his arms folded across his chest.

“I think I’ve made a terrible mistake,” John
said.

“Tell me,” George said, sinking down next to
John.

John shook his head. He couldn’t tell
anybody. He barely believed it himself.

“Humor me,” George said. “After all, I did
come get you last night. I could have ridden after Dority on my
own. Anyway, I’d appreciate having something new to think
about.”

The man looked exhausted, like every bit of
life had been drained out of him. John remembered what Dority had
done to George’s wife and knew that seeing the bastard had taken
its toll on the lawman. “How is Mary Beth’s father?” he asked,
choosing his words carefully. George did not seem to be the type to
want others to be overly concerned about him.

“I sent him home with Mary Beth. Hotel is
officially closed for the day.”

John could still see the pure look of
disbelief on George’s face when Mary Beth’s father had fired his
gun. “Dority died before you could question him,” he said, stating
the obvious.

“That’s about all I’ve been thinking about
for the last two hours. I’ve been waiting for Dority to lead me to
the third man. I could have killed the bastard weeks ago and none
of this would have happened.”

Would Sarah have gotten the chance to tell
him that she wasn’t really Peter’s wife? Would he feel better or
worse than he did right now? “I guess things work out the way
they’re supposed to,” John said. “Now what happens?”

“I don’t know.” George scooted back on the
sidewalk, far enough that he could lean his back against the hotel
wall. “Part of me wants to go on looking. But—this is going to
sound odd—it’s almost like I can hear Hannah talking to me.”

“Talking to you?” John felt a shiver run down
his spine. “What does she say?”

“That vengeance will not heal the pain.”

“That’s it?”

“No.” George smiled and his eyes looked like
he was far away. “She tells me she loves me and that I need to let
go so that she doesn’t have to worry about me.”

“Was she right? You got your vengeance. You
might not have fired the shot but that doesn’t make Dority any less
dead.”

George shook his head. “Like always, Hannah
is right. Seeing Dority bleed out doesn’t make me miss her any
less.”

George sounded old and weary. “You must have
loved her very much,” John said.

“I did. I suspect sort of like the way you
love Sarah.”

He wouldn’t deny it. “How did you know?”

“Since Hannah’s death, I’ve become a good
watcher. I see you when Sarah’s in the room. You can’t keep your
eyes off her. And then if some crazy fool is stupid enough to even
look her direction, you’re like a snarling dog protecting his bone.
You’ve got it bad.”

He did have it bad. He loved a woman and he
didn’t even know who she was. She’d lied to him but what choice had
she had? If she’d told him the truth that first night, he wouldn’t
have believed her. He would have assumed it was another one of his
sister-in-law’s schemes and he’d have rid himself of her at the
first possible moment. She’d have been alone, in a strange place,
with no money, no hope.

“Well?” George prompted. “What are you doing
down here?

“I said some things to Sarah that I’m not
proud of. I hurt her.”

“So you’ve chosen to hide down here rather
than be upstairs, begging for her forgiveness”

“I can’t face her.”

George shook his head. “Do you know what I’d
give to have my Hannah back, to hold her, love her, talk to her? Do
you know what I’d do to have her for one more day?”

John ran his hands through his hair. “Christ,
I don’t know what to make of all of this.”

“Pastor Dan told me that peace comes to those
who can forgive, whether it’s forgiving God or someone else.”

“Pastor Dan?”

“I went to see him after I started hearing
Hannah’s voice. I got kind of spooked.”

“He’s a good man.”

“Seems like it. When I heard the rumors about
Sarah and Fred, I went to see him. Anybody with half a mind would
know it wasn’t true. I’d overheard Sarah tell Thomas Jefferson that
she planned to play for Sunday services. I didn’t want Pastor Dan
thinking poorly of her.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that the Lord works in mysterious
ways and that, as hard as it might be to believe, even Turnip with
his vicious lies could be God’s instrument.”

Hearing about Fred and Sarah had been what
had pushed him to admit his feelings about Sarah.
“Maybe Pastor
Dan is right. It doesn’t really matter now. She’s leaving
anyway.”

“When?”

John shrugged. “I guess she plans to take the
train from Cheyenne to California.”

“Last time I checked, it was a two-day stage
ride from here to Cheyenne.”

“So?”

“Here’s the thing. You don’t ever know how
much time you have. The morning Hannah was killed, I’d left early.
I had a prisoner at the jail and I wanted to relieve my deputy.
Hannah had been up late the night before. She was carrying our
child and had been sick.”

John swallowed hard. “Dority will burn in
hell. I’m sorry, George. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I left that morning without waking her. I
left without a kiss or a hug or telling her that I loved her.”

“She knew.”

“I think she did. I hope so. I tell her now,
when she comes to talk to me.”

Sarah would leave thinking he hated her. It
wasn’t true. Sarah Beckett? Sarah Jane Tremont? It didn’t matter.
She was his Sarah. Sarah who made him laugh, who made him want, who
made him yearn.

“Don’t let her go without saying goodbye.
Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

***

Sarah opened the door and almost ran into
John’s fist.

“I was just about to knock,” he said. “I
didn’t realize you were on your way out.”

Sarah blinked and hoped she’d run out of
tears. “I need to check on transportation to Cheyenne.”

“May I come in for a few minutes?”

So he could step on her heart again
?
“That didn’t work out so well the last time you asked that
question. I think we’ve said everything that needs to be said.”

He shook his head. “Please. Just a few
minutes. That’s all I’m asking.”

Damn him. She didn’t know how many more
hurtful, hateful words she could endure. “Fine,” she said and
stepped back into the room.

He’d barely shut the door when he started
talking. “Sarah, I acted like an ass earlier. You caught me a
little short and I didn’t handle it well.” He brushed a hand across
her cheek, his fingertips just grazing her lashes which were still
wet with tears. “I caused these tears. I’m sorry for that, more
sorry than you’ll ever know.”

Sure that her legs could no longer hold her,
she sank down on the bed. “John, it doesn’t matter. I’m—”

“Sarah,” he moved in front of her and grabbed
her hands up in his. “It matters. It matters very much. I’m begging
you. Please forgive me.”

“I lied to you. Can you forgive that?”

He put his finger under her chin and tilted
her head up. “You’re really from the future?”

“Yes.”

“From California?”

“Yes.”

His face got very serious and she expected
him to bolt for the door. What she didn’t expect was for him to
calmly walk back over to the door, slip the hook into the latch,
and hang his hat on the hook by the door.

“John?”

He turned toward her. “The last ten days have
been the best ten days of my life. I got kicked in the head by a
horse and even that was good. Because you were there. Only because
of you.”

He crossed the room and held out a hand to
her. She took it and they stood together, just inches apart. She
could feel his warm breath wash across her cheek.

“I know I should have a thousand questions
for you. You could tell me about things that are beyond my
imagination. But I’ve only got one question.”

“Yes.”

“Will you let me kiss you, Sarah?”

Sarah’s body started to shake. Her knees, her
silly boney knees trembled against his strong legs. John looked
down and smiled. “Is that a yes?”

She nodded, unable to speak.

He pulled her closer still. She could feel
his heat and the pure, powerful strength of his body. He took his
hands and cupped them around her face. “So beautiful.”

She felt beautiful. For the first time ever,
she felt perfect.

“I dream about you,” he said. “I see your
face, your adorable freckles, your mouth.” He ran the tip of his
finger across her lips and she felt the answering zing rip through
her body.

Then, ever so lightly, with the pad of his
thumb, he traced her collarbone. “So delicate. So womanly.”