West (History Interrupted Book 1)

West

A History Interrupted novel

By Lizzy Ford

http://www.LizzyFord.com/

Cover design by Eden Crane Design

http://www.EdenCraneDesign.com/

Kindle EDITION

West
copyright ©2014 by Lizzy Ford

http://www.LizzyFord.com/

 Cover design copyright © 2014 by Eden Crane Design

http://www.EdenCraneDesign.com/

Photography copyright © 2013 by Cathleen Tarawhiti

http://cathleentarawhiti.deviantart.com

Fleuron
© spline_x - Fotolia.com

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or to real locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.

C
HAPTER
O
NE

Take a survey while you wait!

Only three questions!

Free $50 gift card!

Fifty dollars was a lot when my bank account was close to zero.

I stepped out of the stream of tourists strolling along the covered wooden sidewalks of Tombstone, Arizona, and paused before the table with an iPad laying next to the propped up sign. It was over a hundred and twenty degrees in the shade and even hotter in the brilliant midafternoon sun. The stores were packed. The beverage sellers at each corner of the tourist district wore heavy period clothing that made me feel sorry for them, as evidenced by the collection of overpriced water bottles weighing down my purse.

The first page of the survey was pulled on the iPad’s screen, just waiting for someone to stop and fill it out.

“Why isn’t this place crowded?” No one even glanced this way. Either it was my lucky day or I was the only person wondering how I was going to pay off student loans after graduating college. “My lucky day!” I placed my purse down on the table, picked up the tablet and glanced at the window of the store behind the survey.

It wasn’t a souvenir or jewelry shop or western-themed eatery like every other business lining the sidewalks of the popular tourist spot. The pictures in the window were sad – of Old West pioneers burying their dead and Native Americans being marched in chains while flanked by cavalry members on horseback. It was a stark reminder of how gritty life back then had been.

Every kid who was ever forced to take an American History class knew how the Old West was won and the natives suppressed, and I had read every book about the era I was able to find when I was in high school. I wasn’t certain why this store was in the heart of a tourist trap, unless the city was trying to keep things more authentic than the Old West souvenirs made in China.

Seeing the photos made my heart hurt for the long dead people.

“Are you interested in the history of the Wild West?” asked a male voice.

I looked over, not expecting the stranger to be as stunning as he was.

He smiled. Tall, trim and sexy, with sparkling blue eyes and dark hair, he wasn’t much older than I was, maybe the age of the Masters students in the university where I had recently graduated with my Bachelors in a field unrelated to the Old West: modern languages. He had charming dimples in both cheeks that gave him a boyish appearance, exotically high cheekbones and a tilt to his almond-shaped eyes.

Déjà vu.
I knew I’d never seen him before, but the sense we had met at some point was strong. Never one to pass up talking to a man stunning enough to be a Hollywood A Lister, I lowered the tablet and smiled.

“I’m not really into American history anymore. I was obsessed with the Old West when I was in high school, but I grew out of it,” I answered. “I minored in European History in college.”

“So you do like history?”

“Yeah. Civilized history, I guess.”

“Civilized?” He laughed. “Tell that to Genghis Khan when you meet him! I mean … if you meet him.” He blushed. “If you go back in time and …”

He reminded me of my youngest cousin, a super brain who was awkward around women. It didn’t seem possible this man had issues with women, though, because he was absolutely
hot.
The fact I resembled the perfect blond haired, blue eyed, bubbly cheerleader drew all kinds of attention from men, but none had blushed quite like this.

“It’s okay if you want to try that again,” I said, struggling not to laugh.

“Thanks.” His cheeks were almost purple with embarrassment. “I meant to say, I don’t think there’s such a thing. If we were to go back in time, I think we’d find the past anything but civilized.”

“Good thing we’re in the here and now.” I glanced at his nametag.
Carter, History Interrupted, Inc.
“You’re the one doing the survey?”

“Yeah. It’s nice to meet you, Josie.” He stuck out his hand.

“I’m …” I trailed off, realizing he’d already said my name. “… not wearing a nametag.”

“Oh.” He turned red once more. “You look like a … Josie.”

“No one
looks
like a Josie,” I said with a laugh.

“Fits the period.” He appeared relieved I wasn’t freaked out, his smile large and dimples larger. “Lucky guess.”

This is strange.
“Nice to meet you, Carter, I think.” I picked up the tablet again. “Is this one of those surveys where you try to sell me a timeshare before you give me my gift card?” I was cute, petite and quick to smile; it was how I always managed to get away with talking to people the way I did.

 “It’s an absolute honor to meet you, Josie. And no, there’s no timeshare involved. Can I at least give you my pitch?” he asked hopefully. “I’ve always wanted to talk to you. To someone like you. To someone who …” He was flustered again.

“Wait, stop there! Let me put you out of your misery.” I smiled, taking pity on the socially awkward man. “Tell me about the survey or your project or whatever it is you’re doing.”

There’s something odd about this guy
. Not in a bad way, just like a lost puppy that clung to the first human to show it kindness. The combination of Hollywood looks – but no clue how to talk to women – and his over the top enthusiasm about meeting me were endearing. I liked him almost immediately.

“What if I told you that all this,” he waved at the pictures on the window, “could’ve been prevented? That one man started a chain of events that ended with the near destruction of the native peoples of North America?” His eyes glowed, and he became animated, his hands complementing his words with flourishes. “Just one man. Someone who may not have known the impact of what he did? Maybe he made one tiny choice, like you did this morning when you put on black yoga pants instead of jeans.”