12. Chapter 12
Chapter 12
“ Y ou will marry her.”
James forced another sip of coffee down his rebelling throat before he faced his sister. With him sitting on the barstool, Sylvia’s face, scrunched in disapproval, was right in line with his. She pursed her lips and folded her arms.
“Excuse me.” At the table nearby, Miss Willburne stood, then grabbed the edge of the table and sat back immediately. Marshall put a cold rag to the back of her head. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make decisions on my behalf.”
“I am not.” Sylvia turned to her, her voice as stern as a teacher’s. “You had made your decision when you chose to … well …” She faltered, instead waving her hand.
“Silly.” James cringed as he spoke. Words hurt. Sounds hurt. What was in that redeye last night? He was usually much better at holding his liquor. “We don’t know that anything had happened. Miss Willburne and I both got a little tipsy. I mistook her room for mine, that’s all. Hell, I prefer to sleep in that room every now and then—it’s got better breezes in the summer. So all that’s happened is I forgot we had a visitor, plopped down on the bed next to her, fell asleep.”
“Then why were you not dressed?” Sylvia turned back to him, a blush, either from anger or embarrassment, coloring her cheeks.
“Because it was a warm evening. And I like to sleep in comfort. Sometimes that comfort doesn’t include drawers,” James bit off.
“Besides, I was dressed.” Miss Willburne winced.
“That’s irrelevant,” Sylvia said.
“How is it irrelevant? You just argued the same point against your brother!”
“Silly, you’re the only one making a fuss about this.” James downed the rest of the coffee.
“Because, luckily, only the four of us know. And I’m not the only one. I’m sure Mr. Marshall agrees, doesn’t he?” Sylvia pierced her newest victim with a non-negotiable look.
“Lady Ross, I assure you my cousin is able to take care of herself …”
“Clearly not!”
“All right, that’s enough.” James stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going back to sleep. In my bed.” He headed to the stairs.
“Then you will do the same to her as you did to Miss Fairbanks?” Sylvia’s voice came from behind.
He closed his eyes. “You’re not bringing her into this.”
“I must.”
“Okay, I don’t know what you two are talking about,” Miss Willburne said. “But my head is killing me. So I think I’ll go to sleep, too. Will, can I take your room?”
“Of course. ”
“No one is going anywhere!” Sylvia erupted. “Do you not realize the scandal you’ve created?”
“There is no freaking scandal!” Miss Willburne returned on the same volume. “I know what you think you saw, but I’m probably the only woman in this town, hell, all the towns up to here, who didn’t sleep with James!” She grabbed the side of her head and closed her eyes for a moment. “Relations excluded.”
“Good Lord,” Sylvia breathed.
“See, Silly,” James said. “She’s fine with it. No reputations ruined.”
“That’s not how it works!” Sylvia stomped the floor.
“If I didn’t marry Vanessa after sleeping with her, then what makes you think I’ll marry Miss Willburne without even sleeping with her?” The second the words left his mouth, James already knew they’d been wrong—or, at least, insensibly phrased. Hangover and sensibility didn’t go well together.
Miss Willburne’s eyes widened.
“Winters,” Marshall warned, “I would remind you this is my cousin you’re talking about.”
“And you’re doing a mighty fine job of protecting her. She played poker for hours last night, alone with a bunch of strangers—”
The chair screeched and fell back as Marshall stood.
“Will!” Miss Willburne grabbed his hand. “Stop it. All of you, stop!”
Silence descended. James tried to calm his ragged breathing. Marshall sat back down.
“If that’s what it takes for you to let me go freaking rest,” Miss Willburne spoke in a tired tone. “Then fine. Let’s get married or whatever. But don’t expect any benefits from it.”
“Emily—” her cousin started .
“It’s fine. Besides, no one will know.” She gave him a strange look, packed full of unspoken words, secret agreements. James’ sluggish brain processed that look, and a wheel started turning.
Not such a bad choice, huh? Vanessa didn’t think him a bad choice, either. She’d been more than happy to laugh and tease and flirt. No one will know , she’d said. Harmless fun. They’d both wanted it. Well, James wanted the “fun” bit. Vanessa wanted the money and the title.
All she had to do was betray him and play the innocent.
“Emily, you can’t do this,” Marshall said.
“Quite the opposite,” Sylvia spoke up. She looked from Miss Willburne to James, and if he didn’t know his sister better, he’d almost say her look was calculating. “It appears your cousin finally met some common sense. I’m more worried about you, Mr. Marshall, if you’re encouraging her to throw away her good name.”
Wasn’t her insistence a bit strange, too, considering she didn’t even like Miss Willburne?
Well, it had been years since he’d left home—Sylvia grew up in the meantime. Who was he to understand her reasoning?
“I’m not throwing anything away except a bunch of time when I could be sleeping,” Miss Willburne grumbled.
“You’re not getting any money,” James said. “Father disinherited me. What you see is what I’ve got.”
“And I should care why?” Miss Willburne lifted an eyebrow, then winced again.
“And I’m never going back to England. My title will be passed on to my cousin. You’ll get nothing out of it.”
“But—” Sylvia started.
“Good for you. I don’t give a flying butt crack about it. ”
Sylvia gasped.
A door at the back banged closed, and Molly marched into the main room. “What’s going on here? Why aren’t we open yet?”
That slowly processing wheel in James’ head turned the other direction, encountering more pleasing thoughts.
She did have a lovely laugh. And a strange sense of humor.
She didn’t want him for the title or anything brought with it. Well, Miss Willburne didn’t seem to want him at all, but that could be worked on.
She would present a wonderful challenge.
He’d never be bored with her.
You’re not seriously thinking about this, are you?
“James?” Molly prompted.
“We’ll have to delay opening for today,” he told her, his eyes still on Miss Willburne. “Molly, would you please fetch Guthrie? And keep this on the down-low.”
“What do you need him for?”
Miss Willburne broke their staring contest to glance at her cousin, then gave a small nod. Sylvia loudly drew in her breath.
“A wedding.”
***
Emily awaited the priest’s arrival by indulging in some coffee and trying not to think too hard about what she’d agreed to. It doesn’t matter. Go through with it and forget it. The path of least resistance: Sylvia got what she wanted so she’d stop pitching a fit, James could go on with his life without feeling bad about “ruining reputations,” and Will understood, anyway .
“You’re the priest?” Sylvia’s voice brought her out of her thinking.
A man with long hair and an unkempt beard had arrived. He wiped his hands on his vest before offering one to Sylvia. “No, ma’am. But I was a magistrate in Denver.”
“You didn’t get us a priest?” Sylvia turned to James.
“We don’t have a priest. Passed away three weeks ago. Still waiting for a new one.”
“You truly mean to do this?” Will whispered to Emily.
“Relax, Gramps. I’ve got it.”
“But have you considered—”
“All right, let’s get it done.” James stood from the barstool and clapped his hands. “Read the thing, Guthrie.”
“What about a church?” Sylvia asked.
“Don’t have a church.”
“We’re doing this here ?”
“The saloon’s as good a place as any, ma’am,” Guthrie said with a nod. “Now, Jimmy, where’s the lovely lady you’re getting hitched to?”
Emily nonchalantly raised a hand. At Guthrie’s sweeping gesture, she walked over to James.
“Dearly beloved,” Guthrie started.
“Can we skip that bit?” James said. “We’d like to get this done.”
“Now there, Jimmy, I know you’re looking forward to some sampling—”
“Oh my god. Just do it!” Emily said, feeling her cheeks grow warm. “And so it’s clear,” she added to James. “We’re done after this. I’m still leaving tomorrow. And for the rest of this day, I’m sleeping. Alone.”
A light shadow crossed his eyes. Disappointment? No, couldn’t have been. His mouth twitched and finally drew up in a smile. “You’ve got it, Flicker.”
What did he just call her?
Guthrie cleared his throat. “All right, then.” He scanned the room, nodding to Will and Sylvia. “You two serve as witnesses. We’re joining here in holy matrimony, uh …”
“James Alexander Winters.”
“And …”
Emily gulped. Her hand began to shake, and she clutched her skirt. Not for real. It’s not for real. “Emmeline Noelle Willburne.”
“… Till death do them part.” Guthrie winked at James. “If you wanna steal a kiss—”
“Yeah, no thanks.” Emily flashed him a quick smile, turned on her heel, and rushed out.
Emily had sat—or rather, mildly rocked, trying to soothe her racing thoughts—on the bed in Will’s room for ten minutes before Will came to seek her out.
He gently closed the door behind him and sat next to her. “That wasn’t very well done of you.” His tone was calm, with only the slightest hint of accusation.
“Which part? The gambling, the drinking, or rushing out of the saloon?”
He stayed silent and only took her hand.
“All of it?” she tried. “In my defense, I don’t do this at home. But it was our last night here—well, it should’ve been—and poker looked fun and I can’t drink at home, so …”
Will just nodded.
“I didn’t sleep with him. I know I didn’t. I think … I …” her hand shook, and he held it tighter. “I didn’t sleep with him, right, Gramps? ”
Will flushed lightly. “Did you … can you … do you feel any different?”
Oh, boy. “Well, my thighs hurt like the devil and my butt is killing me. But James said that would happen from the riding. The horse riding, I mean.”
“I see.”
“I would know. Surely I’d know.” She rose to her feet, moaning when her thighs protested against the movement. “A-a-and even if something had happened, it doesn’t matter, right? It’s all fake. My existence here is … well, non-existent. We leave tomorrow and we’re never coming back. And this body isn’t even my real body. It’ll be gone when I pop back over to Boston. And that body won’t …”
“You’re implying that any consequences you might feel will be eradicated once you leave this time.”
“That’s true, isn’t it?” She didn’t think she had done anything with James, but the complete lack of memory of the last night, post-poker game, still instilled a frightful seed of doubt.
“Yes, you’re right,” Will said. “Regardless of what had happened or still happens, you’ll be well when you return home. The body in your time is unaffected by any changes made here. However, this world is not.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can come and go as you like. You may even be viewing my time as some sort of an adventure world. But it doesn’t stop running when you leave. Even when you’re gone, back to your time, all of this will still exist. These people will continue on. You can forget it, but James will have to live with the consequences.”
“This is about him?” Emily sighed. “Will, he didn’t want this any more than I did. He’ll be happy when I leave!”
“Do you know him so well?”
“I know he didn’t want to marry me.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “James and I have this figured out. We did it so Sylvia would stop pestering us.”
“He said I hadn’t protected you well,” Will murmured. He raised his eyes from the floor to meet hers. “And it’s true. Yesterday, I was …” His eyebrows drew together. “Confused. I should’ve been there for you, checking on you, and I wasn’t.”
“Geez, Gramps. You don’t actually have to be my grandpa. It’s not your fault.” She raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’d like to travel back and prevent all of it from happening?”
Will blanched.
Just like at the bank, when the robbery happened.
“Will?”
He twitched. “No, I … like you said, you took care of it. And it’s better we save the new almonite barrel for emergencies.” He stood. “I should leave you to rest.”
“Won’t you tell me what’s wrong? With you and time travel?”
“Nothing is wrong.” But he faced away from her as he said that. “Rest, Emily. We’ll talk later.” He left.
Emily had barely fluffed her pillow and removed the blanket when another knock sounded, and Molly’s head peeked through the door.
“I hope I’m not disturbing.” She entered at Emily’s head shake and offered her a glass of muddy brown liquid, tinged with green. “I brought you this. It’s a home remedy for a hangover.”
Emily squinted at the glass. “Do I look that bad?”
Molly laughed softly. “It ain’t as vile as it looks. Though I’d still recommend pinching your nose while you drink it. Give it a few hours after that, and you’ll be right as rain. ”
“Thanks.” Emily took the glass.
Molly inclined her head, moved back to the door, then stopped. “He’s not a bad man, you know. Jimmy,” she said. “I believe many would say he’s mighty fine.”
“Well, then, why don’t you have him?”
“Had my share. But I ain’t marriage material. Oh, don’t look so shocked.” Molly eased the door closed and came back to Emily. “Surely, you must realize I’d slept with him. And now you probably know the experience is worthwhile.”
“Oh, no, I didn’t—”
“Hush, honey. You don’t have to worry to come out looking like me.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“If it were my choice, it’d be horses.”
Emily bulged her eyes. “What?”
“I mean, for a job. I’d have a ranch. Breed horses. But it ain’t as easy as it seems. When I escaped from the madam I thought the whole world would open wide. I’d finally live my life the way I wanted to.” Molly shrugged. “Turns out creditors don’t favor hussies. And sometimes money’s a hell of a lot harder to make the decent way.”
“So you don’t want to do this?” Whenever Emily had seen Molly, she looked very comfortable in her skin.
“Richling Creek is better. Got a decent job at the saloon. Nothing that’ll buy me a ranch, but the people are nice. The rest that happens on the side … you’ve probably noticed there are a whole lot more men than women in this town. I don’t touch the married ones, but the rest get lonely. It’s not always sex. Sometimes they only need someone to talk to. Tell their troubles to.”
Emily hesitated, but the curiosity got the better of her. “And James? ”
“Jimmy’s not much of a sharer. And our private encounters ended with one.” Molly moved back to the door. “He’s all yours, honey.”
Emily waited until she left, then gulped the disgusting concoction in one long swig. If only it could take away this entire day.
Will’s words, once written in a letter, came back to her mind as she lay down. With the power given to people like you and me, it’s an easy temptation to go back and try to correct mistakes. But those mistakes made us who we are. We would not have been the same without them. And not all of them always turn out for the worse.
She fell asleep, her mind stuck on the flick of disappointment in James’ eyes.