Chapter 2 #2
He must be Cade. The one Jeb painted. He took a step forward, and every mini in the barn lay down in unison.
Holy Magick, Batman.
Oh, now they behave. Strange man appears, and they’re all ready to impress.
Not that she could blame them. He was impressive.
“Name’s Cade.” He nodded at the card in her hand. “Cade Sullivan.”
“Um…uh…pleased to meet you?” Yeah, she raised her voice at the end, turning it into a question.
“Where is this place?” He glanced around, looking lost.
“Evergreen Springs, Montana.”
Relief flickered across his face. “Still home, then.”
“Still?”
His jaw flexed, and wow, that was a good jaw, all sharp angles and a neat beard that would probably feel amazing against—
Focus, Mitchell.
“We were camped south of here.”
Tessa fisted the card in her grip. Eliza’s words haunted her. The card glowed, Tessa. And then boom, a cowboy in my bakery.
“But not now,” she whispered, because her brain had decided to ease him into the temporal displacement situation.
“No.” His eyes narrowed, and she felt his stare all the way to her toes. “Not now.”
The air between them crackled, charged with something that made her hyperaware of everything from the blinking nose on her ridiculous sweater to the sawdust on her jeans to the fact that she smelled like horse pee.
He was devastating her nervous system, all dangerous edges and controlled power, but it was more than that. Something in her chest recognized something in him, like finding a song she’d been humming her whole life without knowing the words.
Which was illogical.
“What year? Because you don’t look like any woman I’ve ever met.”
Was that a compliment or a dig?
He stepped closer, and heaven help her, he smelled like everything missing from her life, the scent of musk, leather, and that indefinable fragrance of a man who knew what he was doing.
“What year is this?”
The question sobered her. This wasn’t some meet-cute at the feed store. This was a man ripped from his world, torn from everything he knew.
Because of her wish. Because she’d been feeling sorry for herself and asked the universe for help.
Note to self: be more specific with cosmic requests.
“It’s 2025,” she said.
He didn’t stagger. Didn’t curse. Didn’t do any of the things she would’ve done, which would’ve included ugly crying and hyperventilating into a paper bag. He stilled, his gaze tracking over the LED lights, the modern tack gleaming on the walls, her phone with its cheerful yellow case.
“A hundred and forty-seven years.” The words came out soft, like he was testing their weight.
The number hung between them, massive and impossible. Everyone he knew would be dead. His whole world erased.
And she had done this. With her selfish, desperate wish.
“I-I’m sorry.” Her voice cracked like she was thirteen again, getting caught sneaking her grandfather’s horses out for midnight rides. “I think I’m the one who called you here.”
His gaze snapped back to her. “Called me?”
Heat flooded her cheeks. “My friend Eliza, this happened to her too. A man named Wyatt McCready—
Cade’s whole body tensed, shoulders snapping square as if bracing for a fight. His eyes sharpened, storm-gray turned gunmetal. For a breathless second, she swore even the minis felt it, heads lifting, ears pricked to the sudden current running through the barn.
“Wyatt?” He sounded stunned. “You know Wyatt?”
The way he said it, like the name was carved into his soul, sent a chill skating down her arms. Whoever Wyatt had been to him, it wasn’t casual. This was blood-deep.
“I’ve met him, yes.”
“Wyatt? Here in 2025?” He shook his head in disbelief.
“Yeah. He and my friend Eliza are dating now.”
Cade lifted his black cowboy hat and scratched his head. “Well, I’ll be a biscuit eater. Wyatt disappeared ten days ago without a word. Just vanished. We had no idea what happened.”
“Weird, huh?”
He huffed out a breath. “So 2025 got ‘em.”
“Seems that way.”
“Where is he? Can I see him?”
“Let’s slow down.” Tessa pressed her palms downward as if she could control the situation. “I’m trying to wrap my head around all this.”
He nodded and pulled a palm down his face. “Me too.”
They stared at each other for a moment too long.
Cade cleared his throat. “You said you needed help. With what?”
Tessa gestured. The harnesses were twisted into modern art, the sleigh listing like a drunk sailor, hay strew everywhere.
“The Christmas parade is in three days. I promised the whole town I could turn these demons into reindeer. I can’t even get them to stand in a line, much less pull a sleigh. I’ve tried everything—”
Her throat closed. How ridiculous her problems must sound to a man who’d just lost his entire century.
But he wasn’t looking at the sleigh. He was watching her, as if reading her whole pathetic story in the way she stood, the way she breathed, the way she clutched the card like a lifeline.
“You needed help,” he said, “and I got yanked in from 1878.”
“I guess.”
“Because of this.” He waved at the Christmas card.
“I think so. That’s how it worked with Eliza and Wyatt.”
Something flickered across Cade’s face. He scanned the barn again, not lost this time, but making assessments. “We were moving the herd. Blizzard coming.”
Guilt slammed into her chest hard enough to steal her breath. He was in trouble in 1878, and she’d jerked him into 2025 for her piddly little dare.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“I know.” His tone cut clean but not cruel. “Magic doesn’t ask permission. That’s what makes it dangerous.”
Wind rattled the doors. Einstein nickered.
“What are we going to do?” she asked.
He shifted his shoulders. “I guess we’re gonna turn those tiny horses into reindeer.”