West (History Interrupted Book 1) Read online

  “Indian and local goods?” Nell shook her head firmly. “We only buy European goods and those brought here from Boston. It’s not fitting for a woman of your station to be seen at an Indian market.”

  “Nell.” I sighed. “Please? I really want to go see.”

  “See what?”

  “What I missed while gone.”

  Nell pursed her lips together but parked the carriage close to the edge of town, in front of a tailor’s shop.

  I managed to get out of the carriage with some grace and brushed the wrinkles out of the dress Nell probably spent hours ironing. She handed me a pouch that jingled, an indication they thought my sense present enough to give me some money. I observed the downtown area with a smile. It smelled funky, of horses, smoke, people and waste, but I was seeing something no one in my time had.

  “Josie, my cousin.”

  I turned and glanced at the man who was little taller than me with cold, blue eyes, a mustache and a suit that looked new. He approached, followed by two other men. He was the man from Nell’s thoughts.

  My empathic memory kicked in when he was within arm’s reach. I saw his and Nell’s and suspected the empathic memory chip was activated by proximity. The images began flowing when he was within arms reach, and I watched them. I had been fascinated by Nell’s memories, but those that flowed from this man were disturbing: of the time he’d slapped real-Josie when she was thirteen and tried to rape her when she was seventeen. He viewed me with desire and contempt and John with absolute disdain.

  Taken aback by the images, I realized Nell’s suspicion wasn’t misplaced.

  “Philip,” I replied.

  “You look different,” he said, studying me with a frown. “I was worried my ill uncle had been taken advantage of by some … harlot.” His eyes went down my body as he spoke, and they rested on my breasts.

  Bad man. The images in my mind seemed to confirm that. He wasn’t thinking about Josie’s naked body but the small frame of another woman struggling to escape him while he choked her out.

  “Still beating and raping your servants?” I asked, frowning. Before Philip, it hadn’t occurred to me that the empathic memories would also show me the kinds of secrets and sins that people generally didn’t want known. Or maybe a man like this didn’t have reason to care in an era when women didn’t have many rights.

  His gaze flew up to my face.

  “Spending your coin at the whorehouse and on wagers,” I continued. “You are no different, either, cousin.”

  I heard Nell mumbling under her breath while Philip stared at me. The men behind him chuckled. Finally, he smiled tightly.

  “My cousin. Always one to jest,” he said loudly enough for everyone near us to hear. “I missed you, Josie.”

  I didn’t want a man like him to hug me but didn’t resist, afraid of drawing too much of his attention. He smelled of whiskey and smoke and held me too tightly, yet it was the memories that made me almost ill.

  “Tell me, harlot. What did you do with my cousin?” he whispered.

  “Why, whatever do you mean, cousin?” I asked in a syrupy sweet voice and pulled away. “I do believe you grew a few inches while I was away.”

  “You will not lie to me when we are alone,” he returned for my ears only.

  “I’ve seen what you do to women you’re alone with. There’s no chance of that happening,” I said in the same quiet voice.

  We glared at each other for a long moment before he finally stepped away.

  “What a grand thing for you to return when your father is so ill!” he proclaimed. Several of the men around him murmured their assent.

  “Be nice to him.” Nell all but dragged me back to hiss into my ear. “He is powerful, Miss Josie. In a month, he’ll be the mayor.”

  It took effort for me not to roll my eyes. Aware the governess knew the customs of this world far better than I did, I plastered on a smile. “Will you walk with me, cousin?” I asked, holding out my arm.

  He took it, and we began walking.

  “My father sends his regards from England,” he said as we moved slowly down the road.

  I almost laughed but caught myself. His memories told a different story than his words. “Is this a test, cousin?” I asked. “Your father has been dead for fifteen years at least.”

  “You must have known the real Josie.”

  “I am the real Josie.”

  “No, cousin, you are not. And when your father is gone, I will insure my inheritance is ripped from you and you are cast back whence you came. Though if you choose to stay in my home, you will do so with your legs spread at my desire.”

  I did laugh at that. It was the wrong reaction, which didn’t quite register until his face turned crimson. “My apologies, Philip. For a moment, I thought you were serious.” I smiled at him. “The sheriff might be interested to know about the woman buried beneath your pig pen.”

  He appeared uncertain how to take my words. “That was our secret, cousin,” he said with a look over his shoulder.

  I really hate this guy. The images of the woman he killed, albeit accidentally, were forefront in his mind. What real-Josie was doing there, I didn’t know, but she was young and too frightened of her older cousin to speak out. “And I will keep it for you, as I promised long ago.”

  Philip was looking at me anew.

  “Let’s not fight,” I told him. “My father is ill, and I am not well myself, if you hadn’t heard.”

  “I had,” he confirmed. He regained his composure quickly. “I see evidence of your madness in your speech.”

  Dick. My gaze strayed towards the market at the edge of town.

  “Not there,” he said, following my look. He sneered. “Not with the savages.” The memory in his head made me freeze in place: an Indian girl, little over ten, who worked in his household. The sight of her screaming and bloodied while he held her to the ground …

  It was the worst of all the images in his head. Not that him raping his servants was acceptable, but the fact he relished hurting the little girl … I tried to push it away, to stop the images from coming.

  A stab of pain went through my head once more in response, followed by tunnel vision and the sense of floating. It took a moment for me to ground myself and pull my mind out of the abyss to become aware of my physical body once more.

  “My cousin has not yet recovered from her ordeal,” I heard him saying. “Your concern is greatly appreciated.”

  I blinked away the sunspots to see him standing in front of me. I was slumped against Nell, seated on the raised sidewalk, surrounded by a crowd of anxious men kept at bay by Philip.

  “Sorry,” I managed. “Just … need a moment.” And to ask how to turn the chip off. Knowing the dark secrets of everyone around me would quickly become a curse, especially since I wasn’t here long enough to right the wrongs I uncovered.

  Nell’s memories were agitating me as I tried to recover. Philip and the others were too far away, but Nell was running through every time in real-Josie’s life when she’d fallen, sprained something or otherwise gotten hurt. It was definitely not helpful to have the distressed images of a little girl crying in my mind right now.

  “Give her some peace, gentlemen,” the gruff, low voice of the sheriff directed those around me. I sensed him approach without looking up, not too excited to have drawn his attention. “Miss Josephine, you can rest in my office.” It wasn’t a request.

  I stalled for a moment, embarrassed to swoon like I was weak and still a little freaked out by all the people he hanged. Maybe there was some damage done to me from time travel, or maybe it was the intensity of feelings and memories that weren’t mine. I felt claustrophobic despite the open skies and land of the Old West.

  “Let me help you.” The sheriff knelt and wrapped an arm around me.

  His scent snapped my attention out of my mind. Horse leathers, dust, sweat – and dark male musk tainted by a hint of sweetness.

  I breathed deeply and said nothing, a litt
le too aware of the warmth and solidness of his body as he easily stood with me tucked against him. I was no stranger to men’s bodies or touch, but this was different. Better. Almost familiar, like his scent, John and Carter. Aside from the fact he was sexy as sin, his eyes were absolutely stunning.

  Staring up at him, I didn’t realize I had been leaning into his hard, wiry frame too long until he lifted his eyes to mine. The arresting, light green depths were as intriguing as his scent. His face was shaven, the high cheekbones, a sign of his mixed heritage casting hollows in his cheeks.

  No memories. Nell stood two feet from me, her memories flowing freely, but there was nothing from the sheriff’s direction.

  He cleared his throat, as if uncomfortable holding me. “Can you walk, ma’am?” he asked.

  His tested politeness heightened my awareness and the desire not to sit down with him and talk.

  “Yes. Sorry.” I stepped away. “I, uh, am feeling not completely well.”

  How long had I been staring up at the sheriff like a lovesick fool? Long enough for Nell to notice. She was frowning fiercely. Her expressions left me no doubt as to the lecture she’d give me later about how a woman of my station was supposed to behave.

  I wanted so badly to roll my eyes but didn’t, instead occupying myself by dusting off my dress.

  “If you’ll come with me, ma’am, you can rest. We can have that talk I’ve been wanting to have with you, too,” the sheriff said.

  I froze. There was a guarded note in his voice, one that told me he wasn’t about to take pity on me, even if I did just almost pass out.

  “I think I need to return home and rest, sheriff,” I managed.

  “It wasn’t a choice, ma’am.” He offered his arm.

  Dammit. I forced a smile, though. “Then I’d be delighted.” If he caught the sarcasm in my tone, he didn’t react.

  The amount of people around me startled me. Nell wasn’t joking about everyone being there to try to win my hand, my first day back. Initially curious, I began to sense how easily I would be overwhelmed by the masses, if the floodgates opened and released a crowd’s worth of empathic memories.

  And their secrets … I wanted to believe not every man here was like Philip, but I didn’t want to know what else people were hiding, either.

  I glanced up at the sheriff when we cleared the crowds. The determination on his features was enough of a warning that he hadn’t lost his resolve to interrogate me. “Maybe you can tell me how you found me last night and why you are so set on talking to me.”

  He glanced at me. “Because I think maybe your business is elsewhere, ma’am, not foolin’ a good man like John.”

  “Foolin … ah.” He, too, suspected I wasn’t the real Josie. Unable to read his memories, I wasn’t going to pass any test he gave me. Startled by the thought, it took me a moment to respond. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “We both have our secrets, ma’am.” He released me and moved ahead.

  Who the hell is this guy? He had no empathic memories or maybe, the chip worked selectively. Without knowing for certain how it was supposed to work, all I knew was that it was silent around him.

  The sheriff strode down the walkway and leapt off rather than taking the stairs, leading me towards his office at a quick pace. Nell trailed me, the obedient servant in public, while I suspected my nanny had a few choice words to say to me once we were alone.

  “Nell, will you please go in with me?” I whispered when we reached the door to his office.

  “Of course, Miss. You should have a chaperone.”

  Feeling more confident, I walked through the open door of the sheriff’s office. His partner was gone, and a second door propped open led to three cells with iron bars.

  “This is like a movie!” I stood in awe of my surroundings for a moment, taking in the roughly hewn wooden desks, wanted posters and the sheriff with his wide cowboy hat and lean cowboy body. “Fantastic!”

  “Ms. Nell, I’m gonna have to ask you to wait outside,” the sheriff said, sitting on the edge of his desk. He removed his hat and set it beside him.

  “Yes, sheriff,” Nell said.

  I turned to glare at my nanny, who had ducked her head and turned to leave.

  “Nell!” I hissed.

  “People here know I tend to put them in cells to cool off if they don’t listen to me, ma’am,” the sheriff said. “You can spend five minutes talkin’ or overnight.”

  Nell fled.

  Pretty sure Nell is getting revenge for me stressing her out. I said nothing but pressed my lips together.

  “Have a seat, Miss Josephine,” the sheriff said a little too casually.

  With a deep breath, I turned and sat the best I could in the snug bodice in what I hoped was a proper sit. I had missed loosening one of the ties, though, shifted twice and soon found myself leaning again to relieve the pressure around my chest.

  The sheriff was studying me. “You all right, ma’am?”

  “A little tired.”

  He looked me over but said nothing else about my odd position.

  “Let’s start with what happened a year ago, when you disappeared,” he said, resting his hands on the desk behind him in a stance that was deceptively relaxed. His dark hair was mussed from the hat, and the six shooters he had slung on his hips rested against the desk.

  He looks like a real cowboy, I thought, momentarily mesmerized by the combination of quiet strength, handsomeness and low, quiet command. The exotic slant of his cheekbone and chiseled features were straight out of a movie.

  “I don’t remember,” I replied.

  “Convenient.”

  My eyes narrowed. “You aren’t interested in what happened a year ago,” I assessed.

  My empathic memories weren’t working. Nor were the historical records I was supposed to be able to access. Without either, it was going to be harder to figure out what the sheriff wanted. Philip’s motivation was clear: he wanted my land, money and me lying dead in a ditch.

  Such things meant nothing to this stranger, but he was after something from me.

  “You’re right. I’m not,” he replied calmly. “I am interested in how you keep appearing every few months and leaving again. Every time a little different. A little lost.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “We suspected the other girls were after John’s wealth. They must’ve heard about his missing daughter and were trying to take advantage. John’s mind is too far gone for him to understand this.”

  I listened. “So you want to interrogate me to protect John. That’s very sweet of you.” For some reason, that made me feel a little better about being there.

  “Partly true.” The enigmatic sheriff offered a half-smile. “And partially because I want to know what’s really going on.”

  I wanted to be the real-Josie for John because he needed peace of mind before he died. With the sheriff … well, it was more of a survival instinct. The man was dangerous and too quick to sentence people to hanging.

  “I appreciate you looking after my father in my absence. But I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said firmly. “The doctor will verify I have no memory of the past year. My dear cousin Philip and governess will verify that I have knowledge only I can possess.”

  The sheriff studied me, hard gaze never leaving my face. I didn’t recall ever meeting anyone quite this intense before. The silence grew tense and awkward, and I dropped my focus to his desk.

  “Taylor Hansen,” I read his wooden nameplate aloud. “You’re Taylor Hansen!” Did Carter know the man I sought would find me instead of me finding him?

  “Funny thing, ma’am, the other girls got that same look on their faces when they heard my name,” he replied dryly.

  Carter would’ve told me if he sent others back. I didn’t believe the sheriff’s tales about other girls fully. It sounded like entrapment to me, though it did make sense that conniving people would try to take advantag
e in an era where a woman was defined by her father and husband’s money and status. Itching to text my handler, I clasped my hands in my lap to keep from snatching my phone.

  “Who were these other girls?” I asked carefully. “Why do you think I’m one of them?”

  “What should concern you more is what happened to them. No one saw them leave town.”

  A chill went down my back. Was the good sheriff threatening me or warning me? From his expression, I wasn’t certain. The tension between us was thick enough to make me uncomfortable, and he watched me like he might a bluffing poker player while I tried not to stare at one of the most attractive men I had ever met.

  “If there’s something I need to know, ma’am …” He trailed off.

  “Not to my knowledge, Sheriff,” I replied. “You found no trace of the other girls?”

  “None.”

  “And they just appeared at random?”

  “From the sky. Like you did.”

  I stared at him. Now that made me want to hide in a cell and call Carter. It was one of the rare moments in my life where I was speechless. What was worse: I suddenly recalled why I hadn’t taken a third drama class in college – because I was a terrible liar and an even worse actress.

  “Sheriff.” Philip’s intrusion couldn’t have come at a better time. “What business do you have with my cousin?”

  I almost sighed.

  The moment he stepped foot in the office, the empathic memories began working. I tried not to react to the scenes flowing from my faux-cousin, not when I knew how closely the sheriff was watching.

  Why did they work for Philip but not the man identified by Carter? Was the sheriff testing me the same way Philip had?

  “My business, Philip,” the sheriff responded, ignoring the wealthy man’s pointed tone.

  “Consider it over.”

  “For now,” the sheriff allowed.

  I rose quickly and went to the door. Dislike of my cousin was second only to fearing the sheriff knew something he shouldn’t about me.

  Worse, I had found one of the men Carter sought but didn’t dare talk him long enough to find out what he was doing here.

  “G’day, ma’am,” the sheriff called after me.