A Chance In Time Read online

  Chapter Five

  Cole went through another round of coughing. The phlegm finally came up into the handkerchief that Penelope had given him. He gagged at the sight of it. Being sick...again...was not his idea of a good time. He laid back on the bed and took a deep breath, his lungs thrilled with the temporary reprieve from the congestion. Even if he did feel like he’d been pulled through the wringer, he was glad the roof was repaired. He vowed to fix the whole thing once he was well enough.

  He stared at the ceiling. He needed to rest if he wanted to get out of here. He had to get to Fargo, and the sooner he did that, the better. Who knew where Blake was? For all Cole knew, he was making his way to Fargo right now. But there was no way Blake could know the location of the chip. That simple logic reassured Cole enough so that he didn’t do something stupid...like take off right away.

  Rest. Yes. He needed rest. He closed his eyes and breathed in and out, letting the action calm him.

  At least the rain had finally stopped. It had rained the entire day and then most of that morning.

  The door opened so he opened his eyes and turned his head in Penelope’s direction. He smiled at the concern in her eyes.

  “It looks worse than it is,” he assured her before he went into another coughing fit.

  She quickly placed the bucket of water on the table and dipped a cup into it. When he stopped coughing, she held the cup out to him. “This will help.”

  He tried to say thanks but the tickle in his throat made him think better of it. Accepting the cup, he sat up and drank the cool liquid and handed it back to her. “Thank you.”

  To his surprise, she leaned forward and touched his forehead. “Good. Your fever hasn’t returned.”

  He liked the feel of her hand on his skin. He liked it too much. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’ll be fine. This is just a common cold.”

  “As long as you keep getting better, I won’t complain.” She removed her hand and went to the table where she set the cup down. “I never should have let you fix the roof while it rained. You would have been better off to wait until now.”

  “If I had waited, you’d be looking at a hole the size of my hand instead of the small crack. That roof was falling apart fast.”

  “Maybe so but a roof can be repaired. Life is much more fragile.”

  She meant her husband, he realized. He guessed that being a bride for only a year had taught her that lesson. “At least you two were happy.”

  It was better than he and Evelyn had done. Five years he stayed married to her, only to find out she and his brother had been playing him for a fool. Why didn’t he notice the uncanny resemblance between the boy he thought was his son and his brother? Because my brother and I share the same genes. How was I supposed to put two and two together until I dug out that birth certificate and confronted them? And what a way to confront them—while they were in bed together.

  He forced the memories aside. That was all in the past. Well, in his past anyway. “Tonight, I’m going to sleep on the floor. You need to get your bed back.”

  She glanced his way as she crossed the room to a trunk. “I’m fine on the floor.”

  “Maybe. But you’re a woman. It’s not right for me to take the bed.”

  “You’re sick.”

  “I’m well enough to sleep on the floor now.”

  She sighed as she opened the trunk. “Alright. I’m too relieved you’re alive to argue with you.”

  A smile crossed his lips. She was probably the only person who cared about that, and it made him feel good. It made him feel like he actually mattered.

  She pulled out a rifle.

  “What’s that for?”

  “We need meat. I’m going to hunt.”

  “You hunt?”

  “My husband taught me shortly before he got sick. He insisted that I needed to know how to take care of myself if something were to ever happen to him.”

  “Smart man. I’m sorry he died.”

  She stared at the rifle in her hands and took a deep breath. “I am too.” She looked up at him. “But I can’t bring him back. I have to move on.”

  He nodded. What else could she do? All of life was about adapting to whatever crap came someone’s way. Whether it was him and his crummy marriage that ended in a divorce or her happy marriage that ended in death, they had their own difficulties to overcome.

  “Good luck hunting,” he said as he settled back onto the bed, suddenly feeling tired. “And I promise to spend my time resting.”

  She smiled before she left.

  A beautiful smile. Much too beautiful for a thief.

  Chapter Six

  Two weeks passed and, to Penelope’s relief, Cole returned to full health. She wouldn’t lose him like she’d lost Randy. She blinked. Lose him? That was an odd thought for someone she hardly knew. She forced the observation aside and finished making breakfast.

  Cole returned from feeding the horses, looking silly in clothes that were much too tight on him. His steps halted and he raised an eyebrow. “Something funny?”

  Clearing her throat so her chuckle would cease, she said, “You’re taller than my husband was. His clothes don’t fit you very well.”

  He grinned and shrugged. “Who am I to complain? At least they stay on.”

  She set the biscuits and pancakes on the plates before turning to the small table where she placed them. “I hope you brought your appetite.”

  “I did. You better watch out though. It seems like I’m hungry all the time now.”

  “That’s because you need to get your strength back. I have extra food prepared.”

  He sat at his place at the table. “I’ll try not to eat you out of house and home.”

  “Eat as much as you want. I’m just glad you’re alright.”

  “You may not be saying that when you realize how much I’m capable of wolfing down.”

  She smiled at his joke and joined him at the table. He sat in front of her, which she privately enjoyed since it gave her liberty to look at him without being obvious. Now that his sunburn had healed and he had shaved, she could see his face clearly. He was a handsome man with his dark blond hair with bangs that fell over his forehead. He pushed them back, but they usually ended up falling forward again. He had kind eyes, a nice nose, and full lips. His shoulders were broad and his body strong. Yes, she did enjoy looking at him.

  She touched her bun. What did she look like? She knew she’d let herself go since her husband died. Did she let herself go too far? Randy used to like her hair when it was down. Maybe she should do that again.

  He picked up a biscuit and put butter on it. “Do you make your own butter?”

  She nodded and took her hand off her hair.

  “Isn’t it a lot of work? Don’t get me wrong. This stuff tastes better than anything I bought from the store, but it can’t be easy. Don’t you have to churn this stuff?”

  He had an odd way of talking, but she liked it. Smiling, she replied, “I don’t notice how much work it is. I did when I first came here. But I don’t anymore. I guess I got used to it.”

  “That’s only natural.” He took a bite and swallowed. “This is really good. I’m glad I have enough of an appetite to enjoy it.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad you’re well enough to enjoy it too.” She picked up her biscuit and decided to butter it as well.

  “Today I want to teach you how to repair a roof.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you might need to know how to do it in the future.”

  She glanced at her uneaten biscuit. Suddenly, she had lost her appetite. That meant he planned to leave, didn’t it? Of course, he’d leave. He had a life somewhere. Fiddling with the napkin in her lap, she asked, “May I ask what your life is like? I mean, before you came here?”

  He frowned for a moment then shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. I worked hard. I rarely slept in. I was just there. Just getting by.”

  That was such a vague answer that she didn’t know
what to make of it.

  “It’s peaceful out here,” he continued before he put the rest of the biscuit in his mouth and chewed.

  “Yes, it is. I enjoy it.”

  “I do too. I feel as if everything is right with the world. I would like to build a fence for the horses, if that’s alright with you.”

  “My husband never got around to that. I would like it. The horses need a place to roam.”

  “I’ll do that after I replace the roof. I forgot to ask. Do you have enough supplies to make a roof?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll take you down to the cellar and show you everything. Then you can decide what you can and can’t do. I know my husband wasn’t the greatest builder around, and some of the things around here need fixing.”

  He smiled at her. “I like to help. This way, I get to pay you back for all you’ve done for me. You know, saving my life and all.”

  She returned his smile. “I like the fact that you’re here.”

  Her heart thumped loudly in her chest. Did she just say that? It was such a bold thing to do. And yet, losing a husband after being married for only a year had taught her that she couldn’t spend her life waiting. She had to make the most of the moment, and though she understood she couldn’t come right out and ask him to stay with her, she could be subtle, she could let him know he was more than welcome if he wished to leave everything he’d known behind to be with her.

  Forcing her attention back to the food, she finally bit into the biscuit.

  “I like being here too,” he softly confessed, not making eye contact with her.

  Her heart leapt. There was hope then. She was sure of it. Maybe he was considering it. She certainly hoped so. He was, by far, the most wonderful man she’d ever met. Randy was dear to her of course. He’d always have a place in her heart. But there was no denying her feelings for Cole. Maybe he’d come to feel the same way for her.

  But what if he wants children? A flicker of apprehension made her lose her appetite again. She couldn’t give him any. What if he decided to leave because of that? She would have to tell him. But not today. Today, she’d simply enjoy the time they did have together.

  She took a deep breath and forced herself to finish the meal.

  Chapter Seven

  Two weeks later, Cole checked the time travel device. He sighed and put the device in the drawer under his clean shirt. For the time being, he wore the clothes that Penelope’s deceased husband wore. The man had been shorter than Cole, but the clothes and pants fit well enough. He sighed and shut the drawer. He had to get to Fargo.

  Penelope entered the cabin, carrying a jar of pickles. “I remember you said you liked these.” She motioned to the jar and placed it on the table. “I will be going to town in a couple weeks. I’m running out of supplies.”

  He nodded. He knew the time was nearing when he’d leave. He’d been anticipating it for the past month, but now that it was close to coming, he didn’t experience the relief he expected. Which was ridiculous, of course. He had no reason to stay. He certainly had no business staying, not with a woman as good as Penelope.

  She grabbed a pot from the shelf and set it on the cook stove. “I thought I’d make stew. We still have rabbit meat to eat.”

  “That sounds good. I’ll take care of the horses.” It was the least he could do, especially for everything she’d done for him. “I’ll be back.”

  She smiled as he left.

  He pushed aside the twinge of guilt. He didn’t deserve one of her smiles. Penelope was much too trusting of strangers. A woman who could bear the harsh winters of this land should have been more careful when selecting a man to heal, feed and clothe. Someone like Blake would have been a better choice.

  He made it to the well and released the rope, watching as the bucket descended into the dark hole. Where was Blake anyway? His eyes swept his surroundings and not a single person could be seen for miles in any direction. For the moment, he was safe. But he had to get to Fargo. There was no doubt about it. The sooner he left this homestead, the better both he and Penelope would be.

  As long as Blake didn’t find him before he found the chip, everything could be set back in order. He could dig for gold out in California in 1848 and strike it rich. He’d never have to worry about money ever again. He could even come to this time and give Penelope money to make sure she’d never have to work hard another day in her life. There were many things money could buy, many things it could provide, and he’d make sure to return her kindness when he could.

  He retrieved the bucket full of cool water and carried it to the barn where the horses waited in the stalls he reinforced. He poured the water into the trough where the horses quickly approached. He turned to the straw that he’d brought up from the cellar and put it in another trough for them to eat.

  Penelope could use another barn. As it was, the weather had beaten the roof down, and if he hadn’t repaired it, it would’ve fallen within the year. There was no doubt about it. The woman needed money to build things that would last. Her husband might have been a good man, but he didn’t know much about building or maintaining his things.

  Yes, Cole would get that gold and come back to give her some of it. But he wouldn’t tell her it was from him. She seemed to think he was a good man, the kind she could take home to meet her mother, and as foolish as it was, he liked her version of him. The last thing he wanted to do was destroy it. That was when he made his decision. He would place the gold near the well. If he buried it but let a piece of it stick out of the ground where she usually stood, then she’d find it and dig it up. She’d assumed she discovered it and all would be well. Yes, that’s what he’d do.

  When he returned to the house, she was stirring the pot. He took a moment to study her. She had her back turned to him. The blue dress she wore had faded flowers on it and was frayed at the edges. He sighed. Not only did she need a better house and barn, the poor woman needed clothes that could sustain the elements of life out here, in the middle of nowhere. Her mattress was thin, and despite the discomfort, she didn’t voice a single complaint. He actually preferred his blanket on the floor. She needed a good quality bed. It didn’t have to be fancy. Then his eyes took in the single pot. What woman wouldn’t want more cooking supplies? He examined the whole cabin and shook his head. There seemed to be no end to the things she needed. But with enough gold, her problems would be solved.

  She peered over her shoulder and frowned. “Are you feeling ill?”

  “No. I feel fine.” But, in a way, that was a lie. He did get sick to his stomach when he thought of how she’d been living over the past year. He lumbered to the chair at the table and sat down. “Penelope, can I ask you something?”

  “Yes.”

  “When your husband died, didn’t any men come by to see you?” It seemed to him that as soon as the bachelors discovered her availability, they would have been beating down the door to marry her.

  She shrugged and kept her eyes on the stew. “Men wish to have children to carry on their name. I had an accident when I was a girl. I can’t have children.”

  He noted the sadness in her voice and the slumping of her shoulders. “Even so, I’m sure you had some who were interested,” he softly said.

  She shook her head.

  “Then why did your husband marry you?”

  She didn’t respond. Instead, she continued to stir the pot.

  “Penelope?”

  Sighing, she touched her cheeks with her free hand, and he wondered if she was crying. She took a deep breath. “I didn’t tell him.” She spoke so low that he could barely hear her.

  “But you told the other men?”

  “I hated myself for lying. I couldn’t do it again.”

  “And when none of them came to see you, did you wish you hadn’t told the truth?”

  She softly laughed. “No. I felt better having been honest. It was hard keeping it from Randy.”

  So that was her husband’s name. Not that he cared. He rather preferred to
think of Randy as the unnamed man who’d long since been removed from her life. He chastised himself for such thinking. Shifting in his chair, he cleared his throat. “You never know. One of the men might come to see you someday. Not all men value a woman based on whether or not she can give him children.”

  She looked at him, and he quickly lowered his eyes. A moment of tense silence passed before she spoke. “I can’t open the jar. Will you do it?” She motioned to the sealed jar of pickles on the table in front of him.

  More than happy to do anything for her, he nodded and did as she asked.

  Chapter Eight

  Penelope had some time alone in the cabin while Cole worked on the fence, so she closed the door to the cabin and took a bath. Stepping out of the tub, she wrapped the towel around her body and walked over to the dresser. She noted the trembling of her hands as she pulled the drawer open and pulled out her brush, mirror and barrette. It’d been over a year since she gave any care to her appearance.

  Cole’s words gave her hope. She confessed that she couldn’t have children, and he didn’t seem to mind. Other men had. But he hadn’t. Maybe he wanted to stay with her after all. The thought made her heart skip a beat. She could think of nothing better than to have him stay.

  After she towel dried her long blond hair, she ran the brush through it. It fell softly past her shoulders and down to the middle of her back. When it completely dried, it would be wavy. She recalled how Randy liked that. Maybe Cole would too. She picked up the mirror. Living on the prairie had made her skin tougher than it used to be. The sun had done that to her. She rarely wore a bonnet or hat unless it was too bright outside and she wanted protection for her eyes. Most of the time, she exposed her fair skin. That wouldn’t have happened back east. Her hands weren’t as smooth either. But she thought she was still pretty. Hopefully, Cole would agree.

  She set the mirror down and pulled her hair back with a barrette so that the wind wouldn’t blow it in her eyes. That part of living on the prairie bothered her, which was why she started putting her hair in buns.