Page 14 of A Flicker in Time (Mine Through Time #2)

Chapter 13

P enny coughed as another spoon of brown, syrupy liquid slipped down her throat. Ethan attentively watched his daughter, taking in every twitch and frown of her face before sealing the bottle. What had he expected? That she’d drink the medicine, and a healthy glow would fill her cheeks in the next second?

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“I’m doing fine.” A standard answer that has lost its meaning through its frequentness by now. “You know how I’d be doing better? If I could have some delicious raspberry tarts instead of that vile concoction.” Penny gave him a cheeky smile, and Ethan couldn’t help but smile back. For a moment, the little girl shone back through the tired face of his daughter. Penny had always liked raspberry tarts, although her favorite thing was to eat off the jelly and leave the crust.

“Mrs. Daniels has already left for the day,” he said. “But I’ll ask her tomorrow.”

Penny smiled, then another violent cough grabbed her .

Please, be still here tomorrow. He could no longer deny it at this point—Penny’s health was rapidly deteriorating. The handkerchief she held was sprayed with little drops of blood; there was no use in putting it away as soon as it got stained, or they’d go through the household’s entire supply in two days.

A knock sounded from below, loud enough Ethan could hear it through the closed door of the bedroom.

“It’s him,” Penny said, “your colleague.”

“How did you know?”

“Because you just confirmed it.” Her short laugh turned into a cough, and then she grew serious. “You always dismiss Mrs. Daniels before he comes. You’d never done it for any other visitor.” Her clammy hand sought his. “And he always makes you jump.”

“I jump because he knocks so loud.”

Penny gave him a pale smile that betrayed his answer was not convincing.

“I’d better go. Business to take care of.” He kissed her on the forehead and stood. “You rest, darling.”

“I hope it will be worth it.”

Her words chased Ethan downstairs. If only she knew. His hand trembled as he reached for the doorknob; he steadied it with the other, then put his business face on and opened the door.

“You'd better have news,” he said to Ross. “It’s been four days.”

Ross entered without a greeting and waved a piece of paper. “I have her.”

“Your wife?”

“A lead, at least. She went to her brother, she must have. I thought Haverston was in Boston, but he’s not anymore. Luckily, I know where he is. Denver.” Ross stroked his beard. “I bet she went to him. Sylvia’s too squeamish to stay in Boston alone. Although I have to wonder how she got there. She would not dare travel alone.”

Denver. Marshall had said he was going there, too. Ethan frowned. He hadn’t thought of Denver in—well, ever—and now it popped up twice in one week.

More coughing sounded from upstairs. Perhaps it was meant to be this way. “I have someone there,” Ethan said. “Though he may already be on his way back. If he’s not, I can get a message to him.”

“No need. Sylvia is crucial to us. I’d rather not leave this to chance.”

Ross hadn’t removed his hat and coat as he usually did upon arrival. He was also dressed for traveling.

“What are you thinking?” Ethan asked.

“You have my data, my reports, and the extraction machine only needs testing. I’d contributed what I could. You’ll undoubtedly be able to run the tests alone for a few days.” Ross put the paper note back into his pocket. “Meanwhile, I’m going to Denver.”

***

Will sat in the empty saloon, watching the rays of early morning sun creep along the floor. Emily was still sleeping, or resting, at least—in any case, she had kept to his room. Will had finished the process of the fauxmonite barrel and had already inserted the new one into his watch. Now he toyed with the old one, rolling it up and down the polished wooden surface of the bar, and waited .

In the chaos of the previous day, he hadn’t thought of getting the pendant from Lady Ross. He doubted Emily had been concocting plans on how to retrieve it either.

Yet, today, they had to leave.

Yet, he knew he shouldn’t.

“Good God.” James hobbled down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. “On days like these, I miss the fog. Could use the sun not waking me up for once.” Either the long sleep, recovery, or plain exhaustion have stripped his Western accent away.

Will held on to the remark that the sun certainly hadn’t woken him up yesterday.

“So, what’s it going to be?” James plopped on the chair next to him. “Because, for the life of me, I can’t read you. Are you fine with this thing with your cousin, or should I expect to get myself shot in the back?” He cocked his head to the side. “I am sorry about the thing I said yesterday. It was not my best showing. You obviously care about your cousin’s reputation, and I shouldn’t have implied otherwise.”

“No apology needed,” Will said. “I don’t think it was anyone’s best showing.”

James shrugged. “Sylvia seems rather satisfied with herself. I believe she thinks she’s finally taught me some manners.” He reached behind the counter, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, frowned, then put it back. “But this is not about her. It’s about Emily. Is she really leaving?”

“Yes.”

“Going back to Savannah?”

“Eventually. Look …” Will put the barrel in his pocket and turned to face James. “I believe it’s best not to pursue the matter. You both understand this is not a true union. I assume it will not interrupt your daily routine, an d in a short time, you’ll forget all about it. I can also assure you it will pose no problem to Emily. Once we’re gone, she’ll resume her life as it was.”

“She said she was going to college.”

Emily had talked with him about that? Will swallowed a sudden bite of a guilty conscience. Even he hadn’t talked to her much about casual things. He’d been so preoccupied with time travel. “Yes.”

James picked up an empty glass and whirled it around on the counter. “I wouldn’t want to intervene with that. She can do what she wants. I may have made a good life for myself here, but—”

“Don’t,” Will said.

“Marshall.” James leaned in confidentially. “Have you ever loved—no, forget love, stupid concept. Have you ever felt the tingles for a woman? More than just the basic desire. That creepy feeling that makes you think maybe there is, could be, something more.”

“I can’t say I have.”

“Then you’re a lucky bastard. It’s damn uncomfortable.” James finally gave in and reached for a drink. “But at the same time, it fills your mind with dreams you never thought you’d have.”

Will stood. “You’re not a bad man, Winters. But when I tell you you should forget Emily, I mean it. Or rather, do not start thinking about her at all. Believe me, it’s for the best.”

He left the saloon, playing with the barrel in his pocket. This should’ve been simple. Bringing Emily here for one small task shouldn’t have impacted anything. In and out. No harm done.

But even if they left now, Emily had woven herself into this time. There was no telling how even a few actions have impacted the future .

Well, there was an option to see—but Will’s hand grew sweaty just thinking about traveling to the near future. No. He’d simply have to make the best choice, wait it out, and see for himself.

***

Molly’s concoction had been miraculous. Emily took a good, long nap and woke up in the late evening, feeling much better. Not well enough to face any people yet, though, so she remained in Will’s room for the rest of the night, switching between sleeping and staring at the ceiling, regretting that she didn’t have her laptop here. I could use a movie right now.

When she finally peeked out of the room in the late morning, she found Will waiting on the chair outside, head resting on his chest. He hadn’t been here all night, had he? Surely there was another place for him to sleep.

“Hey,” she tried carefully.

He looked up immediately. No dark circles under his eyes—must’ve gotten a decent sleep.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Pretty invigorated.” She added a smile to strengthen the point. Will had been concerned because of her—he may have even felt this was his fault. So even if she wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, looking better would probably make him feel better. “I could use some fresh air. Mind if we go for a walk?”

“Not at all.” He rose and offered her his hand. Emily hesitated for a second before taking it. Was it decent for married women to walk around with other men ?

You did not just have that thought. Ugh. That’s what happened when one spent too much time with the likes of Sylvia.

It was a lovely sunny day outside, and they walked around the outer edge of the town.

“I know you’ve been wanting to leave,” Will said. “And that what happened changes nothing for you.”

That sounded like an intro into a “but” statement. “Yes?”

“Then, if you’re feeling well enough, we shall leave today. I need to return, too. But I didn’t get the pendant.”

“That’s fine. I’ve been thinking, and there are probably other secret sources of almonite we can try to get. Like, Fenn got his serum somewhere.”

“Fenn?”

Oh, right. She hadn’t even told Will about him. “I may have contacted the man who gave the almonite serum to my dad. And who, indirectly, made me a time traveler. It just so happens that he lives in Boston, okay!” she quickly added at Will’s alarmed look.

“Why haven’t you told me about this?”

“To be fair, I didn’t find the time. It took until Denver before I was even able to ask you about your parents! Because there’s always something, and …” Sylvia was always around.

Will frowned apologetically. “I know,” he said. “I … there are things I want to ask you, too. About what you do nowadays, and what new movies you’ve seen, and what you’d like to do at college …”

Emily smiled. “Maybe once our newest crisis is resolved, we can go for a nice big ice cream cone. Relax, for once.”

“I’d like that.”

“Oh, what ice cream flavor is your favorite? ”

Will thought for a moment. “Vanilla, perhaps?”

“Vanilla. Really, Gramps.”

“What’s wrong with vanilla?”

“It’s like, the most boring flavor. At least you could’ve gone for chocolate.”

He sighed. “How about we leave this for when we get ice cream, and you tell me what your father said about you contacting that man.”

“Uh, he kind of doesn’t know either. Nobody does. It’s nothing special, really. He doesn’t have his watch anymore, and it looks like he’d learned his lesson when the business with my father went awry.” Emily tried to remember why they were talking about this in the first place. Right—almonite sources. “Anyway, that’s not the point. The serum is the point. Maybe he knows of a secret stash. I can ask him the next time I see him. God knows how much forbidden almonite is still hidden out there.”

Little creases appeared between Will’s eyebrows.

“You can’t be surprised. Y’all were lucky enough the secret about time travel didn’t get out while the Watchers still existed. You can’t control everything. Probably some member thought almonite was pretty and had it made into jewelry for his wife, which eventually passed down to Sylvia. Two or three or five members may have had a similar idea.”

“I do not feel particularly comfortable with that idea. But … I will admit it is a solution. For us, at least. Lady Ross—”

Emily shushed him by putting a hand over his mouth. “What was that?”

Will mumbled. She took her hand away. “What was what?”

“Did you hear shouting?”

“Winters!” a man’s voice yelled .

“I think it’s coming from the main street.” Emily grabbed Will by the hand and pulled him along, zipping and zapping between the buildings. She stopped by the saloon, and they carefully peeked around the corner.

A man stood in the middle of the street, a few buildings down the road from the saloon. A wide-brimmed hat hid most of his long, dark hair. His pants almost buckled beneath the weight of the bullet-studded, decorated black leather belt. Shiny silver spurs jiggled as he lazily moved forward, one hand on the pistol at his waist.

“What the hell,” Emily murmured.

“Winters! I know you’re here somewhere!” The man’s deep voice reverberated through the dry, dusty air. “Won’t you come out and greet me?”

“Will, are you sure I’m awake?” Emily said.

“I am very sure, unfortunately.”

“Okay. Because this smells very much of a—”

The door to the saloon swung open, and James strolled across the walkway and into the street. Emily momentarily forgot all of her other problems. He looks like a gunslinger. He wore a dark gray vest over the blue shirt, and dark brown pants tucked into knee-high boots. The belt was back, too, as was one pistol.

“MacPherson,” James greeted with exaggerated cheer. “Long time no see.”

“You thought you got away, didn’t ya?”

“I tend to be good at getting away.”

The man laughed and spat on the floor. “Well, this time, the past has caught up with you.”

Emily tore her eyes away from the man and looked at Will. “Why do I feel like he’s going to challenge him to a duel? ”

“We should go,” Will said. “Get inside. Whatever they’re up to, it’s not safe out here.”

“You think they’re such bad shots?” She glanced at the evilly grinning MacPherson. “He doesn’t look like a bad shot to me.”

Oh, god. What if he killed James?

“I came to right the wrong you did to Peterson,” MacPherson announced.

“I’d done just as many wrongs as you have. You know it was all part of the job.”

“Then you’ll understand …” MacPherson caressed one of his pistols, still in the holster. “That this is a part of the job, too.”

“They’re going to shoot. Oh, my god.” Emily leaned on the side wall of the saloon, hidden from the street. “Do you have the new fauxmonite barrel?”

Will gave a barely perceptible nod. Not again. Don’t freeze on me again.

She risked another look on the street. A deadly silence had fallen; the slowly heating air rippled, as if Emily were observing the scene through a thin water filter.

MacPherson’s hand hovered inches above his pistol. James did the same. He waved his fingers as if stretching them—or teasing MacPherson.

Heartbeat …

Her concentration waned immediately, and Emily swallowed and shook her head. Come on, you’ve got this. If you’ve got anything, you’ve got this .

Heartbeat …

James’ fingers twitched. MacPherson reached for the gun—

“No!” A whirlwind of brown, red, and orange fabric ran into the street and stopped in the middle, preventing the two men from clearly seeing one another.

Sylvia.