The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance (55 page)

It was also bad news for anyone caught in the aftershock of the rip. “Your life just got a lot shorter,” she said to the horse that blinked at her as if it were trying to decide if she were real or not. “Sorry,” she added. “Wrong place and wrong time for both of us.” She checked her display again. She needed to get her bearings and report in. She had six hours before she could jump again, she might as well make good use of her time.

Shay took a moment to look around. Even thought it was dark, the full moon illuminated the area enough to discern landmarks. She was in the middle of a deep canyon that was littered with huge boulders. As long as it didn’t rain she should be safe from flash floods. A shallow yet wide river assured her that she would not die of thirst as long as her sanitization kit held out.

“At least I didn’t land in the water or on the edge of the cliff.” Topher must have seen the rip coming and made sure she had a safe landing, if that was what you could call it. Her med stats would show that she survived but she still needed to check in. T.T.E.A. protocol required that she call him first, just in case there was someone around. In this period of time, the locals didn’t take kindly to weird things like time travel. There were plenty of accounts of T.T.E.A. agents being accused of witchcraft, and even one case of an agent dying at the hands of hostiles during the six-hour gap between jumps.

“This is five-one calling base,” she said. She touched a finger to her jaw where her link was planted so there was no possibility of losing it. There was also a remote in her arm panel and she tweaked it while she waited for Topher to confirm.

Nothing but static. Since they were in a time before any signals bounced through the atmosphere there had to be some sort of damage, possibly caused by her rough landing. She’d have to wait for Topher to solve it on his end. Her target was still in range so she decided to make for it.

“Better make sure the wolves are at bay.” Shay programmed her display for scan. She was confident she could handle anything that came at her with one shot from her PR37 but it was nice to think she wouldn’t have to use it. The thought of disrupting the life of anything or anyone in the past was disturbing to her. The horse was already a victim of the rift. She’d hate to think of anyone else falling prey to it.

A blip showed up on her screen. An animal caught drinking at the river? She checked the display and then looked in that direction. The light on her screen showed a significant body mass lying in the river. “Oh no.” Shay realized the blip was human and had to be a man by the size of it. She wasn’t dressed for interaction. And she certainly didn’t want to have to explain who she was and what she was doing here. Still she couldn’t go off and leave him to drown.

He’ll die soon enough if you don’t fix it . . .

This area was supposed to be deserted, populated with nothing but rattlesnakes and scorpions. Sure there was a possibility of a random hunting party but still . . .

She heard him. There was a splash and she turned and looked at the river. Moonlight danced off the surface, giving it a surreal look, as if she were staring at an abstract painting. She caught a movement in her peripheral vision and watched as a man pulled himself up with the help of the rock. It was too late for her to move, too late to hide so she stayed where she was and hoped to hell that he was dazed and confused enough not to ask too many questions. Any other problems that arose could be easily solved with a stun blast from her PR37.

In the exact moment that his eyes found her, Shay realized he was naked. He stood in the moonlight as if he were carved from stone, the only movement the water sluicing down his body, trickling into the grooves and dips that gave sharp definition to his muscular frame. She could not help but watch the water’s trail in fascination, from his wide shoulders, over his smooth pectorals, into the ridges of his stomach, before trickling into the V that split his lean hips. After a long moment, in which she forgot to breathe, he moved, his long legs churning through the water.

“What in hell’s sweet behind just happened?” His voice was more like a growl and it wakened her from the trance his appearance had placed upon her.

Shay levelled her PR37 straight at him. “Don’t take another step.”

He barely spared her weapon a glance as he kept on moving. He raised a dark eyebrow. “Are you planning on shooting me with that?”

“Yes I am,” Shay said indignantly.

He stopped when he got to her and stood, with his arms crossed, imperious and impervious, dripping, and totally oblivious to the fact that he was naked. He towered over her, intentionally she was sure of it, and stared down at her with eyes that lost their colour in the moonlight. His dark hair was plastered against his forehead and curled over his ears. Once more she felt as if she were looking at a statue that was carved from stone.

“Well?” he asked.

Shay didn’t get where she was by being intimidated. She stuck the point of her weapon in the middle of his chest, right in the indentation between his pectoral muscles.

“I could blow a hole clean through you. It would cauterize instantly and give you time to think about what the hell just happened while you lie here and die.”

“It wouldn’t be any stranger than anything else that’s happened to me lately,” he snapped and walked away.

Shay stared after him. She’d seen more than her share of weird during her time at the T.T.E.A., but this was the first time anyone had ever been so cavalier about her presence. Especially when she’d had a weapon stuck in his chest.

His very nice chest. She had to admit the view of him walking away was as nice as the one from the front, if not nicer. The man was definitely fit. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. He was all cowboy . . . long, lean and hard in all the right places.

Get over it . . .
Now was not the time to think about how long it had been since she’d been with a man. She had a job to do. “What do you mean by strange?” Shay suddenly realized what he’d said. Did he know something?

He was talking to the horse now, stroking its nose, using soft soothing sounds to calm it. The horse leaned into him. She found his state of undress very annoying for some reason. The guy acted like he was in his bathroom instead of the middle of nowhere. Come to think of it, the middle of nowhere probably
was
his bathroom and would be hers too before too much time passed.

“Oh hell,” she said.

“At least that makes some sense.” He gave the horse a last comforting pat and walked behind a rock beneath an overhang of the cliff. “Where did you come from?” He pulled on a pair of well-worn jeans.

“I’d rather not say,” Shay said. “What did you see?”

“I’d rather not say,” he quipped. He walked back to the river and picked up a bottle that lay along the bank. “At least one good thing has happened today,” He held up the bottle as if it were a great prize, then removed the cork and took a long drink. He held the bottle out to her as he walked past. “You look like you could use some too.”

“Er . . . no thanks.” Shay followed him back to the rock and watched in astonishment as he lay down on his back and placed a hat over his face. “What are you doing?”

“Getting some rest. I don’t know about you but I’ve had one hell of a day.”

Rand didn’t want to admit it to the woman, but he felt as if he’d been ripped in half. At the moment he couldn’t care less if she shot him. He spared a glance at her, from beneath his hat. She leaned against the rock with her arms crossed. She wasn’t pretty in the usual way; instead she had strong clear features and a quiet confidence that bespoke intelligence and contentment. Her hair was strangely short for a woman. It barely touched her shoulders and framed her face in a riot of curls that gleamed white in the moonlight. Her left arm was covered with some sort of contraption that had tiny coloured lights on it. He couldn’t even begin to figure out what that was all about. She was dressed strange too, all in black with thick boots over pants that looked like a second skin, a shirt that looked like his longjohns and a short coat of the softest leather he’d ever seen. If she wanted to draw attention to herself she’d succeeded. The way her pants hugged the lines of her legs made him want to wrap them around his waist in the worst way, even if he did feel like the ass end of an armadillo.

She had to know something about what had happened to Tom. It was the only logical explanation of what she was doing out here. How she’d got here without him seeing her was another story entirely. One he needed to think on for a bit. This was why he’d decided to lie down. He needed to catch his breath after whatever it was had slammed him into the river.

“I’m guessing that you’re feeling pretty sick right now. Kind of nauseous and weak?” She dragged the toe of her squared-off boot through the sand.

He was. How would she know that? “Where did you say you were from?”

“I didn’t.” She looked at the thing on her arm again. Pushed a couple of the lights. Took what looked like a flask from her belt and drank from it. “The question is
when
did I come from.”

Just when he was beginning to think the night might make a turn for the better she had to go and get all crazy on him. Luckily his gun was handy. Rand sat up and eased his way around to where he could grab it if need be. Lightning flashed in the distance and he waited for the sound of thunder but none came. The woman looked at it also, then back at her arm.

“OK. I’ll bite.
When
are you from?”

“I’m from 2143. That’s two hundred and fifty-some years from now if you’re counting. That blast that knocked you on your ass was caused by me getting bumped from my destination by whoever is messing around up there.” She pointed towards the lightning flashes.

“I’m going to need another drink.” He looked for the bottle. She grabbed it off the boulder she leaned against and tossed it to him. “So you didn’t plan on landing here?” As if anyone would come to this canyon deliberately. Rand had learned a long time ago that it was best to humour people when they were loco, until you could get the drop on them. The weapon she’d waved around earlier was pretty wicked-looking. He didn’t know what it was but he was pretty sure it didn’t shoot bullets. That whole thing about cauterization did not sound appealing at all.

“No. My plan was to land about a month before this date. In time to stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“The rips in time.”

Rand laughed. After everything else that had happened this day it was pretty much all that was left to do. He sat back against the canyon wall and let out a big whoop then took another draw off the bottle after wiping his eyes. “I haven’t had a good one like that in a while,” he admitted.

“It will more than likely be your last.” She crouched down before him. “Still feeling weak?” She took the bottle.

“Yeah. Too much sun.” Rand looked her up and down. “And way too much excitement.”

She handed him her flask. “Drink this. You’re probably dehydrated, and this—” she pitched his bottle away “—isn’t helping things.”

Rand sniffed the flask, decided that it had to be OK since she’d just drunk from it and it smelled pretty good, kind of fruity like apples and oranges. He took a drink and was amazed at how cool it was going down his throat. His stomach felt immediately settled although he was still weak and wanted nothing more than to stretch out and sleep for days. If only there was a nice soft bed available.

He definitely didn’t mind the company at all. Several days in the sack with this woman would be a treat.

“Feel better?”

“A bit.” He wondered if there was something alcoholic in the flask. Something that would make him as crazy as she was. Still there had to be an explanation for what he saw, for what happened to Tom, and for every other weird thing that he’d seen and heard lately. Since no one else was forthcoming with explanations he might as well listen to what she had to say. “What’s your name?”

“Shay McCoy. Captain Shay McCoy. T.T.E.A. That’s the Time Travel Enforcement Agency if you’re wondering.”

“Yeah . . . right. Rand Brock. Captain Rand Brock. Texas Rangers.”

“A Texas Ranger? I heard about you.”

“About me?”

“No. About the Rangers. You guys were legendary. Still are as a matter of fact. It should please you to know that the Texas Rangers are still alive and kicking in the future.”

“Yeah, I was worried about that.” Rand took another drink from her flask. “So why are you here again? Something about a ‘time rip’?”

She drew a long straight line in the sand. “Time is linear. One long line, year after year, day after day, hour after hour and so on. It all keeps coming, one after the next. But . . .”

“I get a feeling I’m not going to like this
but
. . .”

She nodded. “Someone is here, in this place, messing with time.” She drew a hash across the line. “Every time they try to move through time they rip it. Or maybe ‘fracture’ is a better word.” She drew a couple more hash marks and then drew lines off them. “The fractures become their own time lines. Kind of an alternate reality which messes up our realities in the future.”

“You have got to be kidding. How is that even possible?”

“There are lots of things that are possible in the future. Mostly because of things that are happening now, in your time. You call it the Industrial Revolution. In the next hundred years there are unbelievable changes that will happen, including air flight and men walking on the moon.”