A Tumble Through Time by Callie Hutton Page B

cabin into a warm, snug cocoon.
    “Well, it appears we have a feast.” Anna smiled as she surveyed the table laden with beef jerky, bread, apples and a block of cheese. “Where can we get some water? I even brought coffee, and there’s a pan on the shelf in the kitchen area we can use.”
    “There’s a lot of small creeks running through this area, I’ll fetch water for us.” Wes snagged the pan she’d indicated, then left the cabin.
    Whoever had abandoned the cabin had left a couple pieces of broken down furniture behind. Besides the table and three chairs, there was a rickety bed shoved into one corner, but Anna didn’t think she’d care to sleep there. God only knew what critters had made their home in the mattress. While she waited for Wes, she returned once more to the horses and unloaded Wes’s bedroll, and the one she’d borrowed from the hotel.
    She rested them next to the fireplace and surveyed the area. Well, this certainly is cozy. Then brought herself up short. What am I thinking?
    The last thing she wanted to do was get cozy with the marshal. She had a life more than a hundred years from now, and needed to figure out how to get back to it. No matter how many times she ran the episode through her mind, no answer ever appeared. She’d been inexplicitly attracted to the Native American store, and stopped there even though she was in a hurry to get back to Tulsa.
    The strange old woman knew her name, and seemed to know all about her. As scary as that should have been, instead Anna had sensed an overpowering feeling of belonging that she hadn’t felt since her mother died. Then the most alarming part of the experience, when she’d fallen asleep in the ‘peace chair’ and had awakened to find herself one hundred and forty-three years in the past.
    What did it all mean, and how was she going to get back? Was there something about this time and place that was supposed to be important to her? The Indian woman seemed to think sitting in the ‘peace chair’ would give her answers. Instead, it had only presented hundreds of questions.
    The door to the cabin opened and Wes entered, carrying a pan of water. “Why don’t you get the coffee started and I’ll tend to the horses?”
    Anna pushed her disturbing thoughts to the back of her mind, and took the pan from him. The jolt she’d felt once before from touching him made her jump when their fingers met. Wes must’ve felt it as well, because he pulled his hand back, causing water to slosh over the edge and splash onto the floor.
    “Sorry,” he mumbled.
    “No problem. I’ll clean it up.” Anna carefully balanced the pan of water on the fire and wiped the few drops from the floor. When she turned, Wes had disappeared again.
    She sat back on her heels and studied the door. Instead of dwelling on why she’d been thrust into the past, the puzzle of Wes and the feelings he brought out in her arose to the forefront with remarkable clarity. The idea that he could be the reason she found herself where she did was not something she wanted to consider. She’d sworn off men, and had no intention of letting a well-built, handsome lawman change her mind.
    After about fifteen minutes of Anna tying herself in knots trying to answer questions to which there seemed to be no solution, Wes returned and settled at the table. Anna poured the coffee into two cracked cups she’d found, and joined him. He bowed his head, obviously saying a prayer, which caught her off guard. She’d forgotten how common mealtime prayer was in this time period. Avoiding each other’s eyes, they ate, silence coupled with awareness filling the small space.
    When they’d both had their fill, Wes pushed back from the table and crossed his arms over his chest. She glanced up at him, flinching at his light brown eyes boring into hers.
    “All right, Miss Devlin, let’s have it.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Where are you from, and why do I think your answer will be something