West - Page 17/183

"Let me guess. You're John's daughter." The man I had never met before was angry with me.

"Yes," I said. "How do you know that?" My parents have been dead for twenty years!

Ignoring me, he spoke rapidly to the two Native Americans waiting.

I experienced a sense of being disconnected, like watching myself in a dream, except that all my senses were painfully aware. Shaking from cold, I rubbed my arms to warm them while attempting to process what the hell happened that I ended up here.

It had something to do with Carter. I didn't quite understand the instinct, except that we'd been talking about going back in time.

An odd feeling washed over me, one that sat heavily in my stomach. I was awake and aware but nowhere I could recall ever being. The clouds above had slowed from their frantic movement. The thunder was growing distant, and the rain was beginning to subside.

Dressed like cowboys and Indians after hours. Riding horses bareback. Some random stranger claiming to send me to another time in a dream. Uneasiness went through me at the train of thought that was inching towards a possibility I didn't feel was remotely plausible.

"For only trade," one of the Native Americans said, motioning past me.

"Trade?" Unable to decipher his meaning, I watched him. "What do you mean?"

He held up a piece of the moldavite.

Understanding crossed through me. They knew it was worth something, which meant my plan to repay my student loans wasn't going to work.

I turned away. Walking to the edge of the crater, I stared into it. It still steamed, and there was a plume of dust hanging in the air, as if the meteorite had recently hit. Chunks of mossy, glassy moldavite glowed in the occasional lightning, giving the place an eerie appearance, as if it wasn't quite part of this world.

How had I ended up in the middle of a crater?

My skin was fevered but I felt cold inside, as if some part of me knew the world was no longer mine.

"We should go." The curt direction from the cowboy with green eyes jarred me, reminded me that I wasn't alone. He moved his horse close enough for me to feel its heat.

"So cold," I murmured and huddled next to the great animal's neck. "But I think I should stay here."

"You're trespassing on the Indians' lands, ma'am," was the calm if terse response.

"I'm on a reservation?"

"A what?"

Uh, oh. I didn't let my mind go down that path.

"You'll catch your death out here," he added, voice softening. "C'mon. I'll take you home."