A Little Time In Texas

Dear Reader,

What a delight to be able to share my one and only time travel novel with you again! I’ve always been intrigued by the idea of going back in time—knowing, of course, everything I know now! When I finally sat down to write a time travel novel, it turned out that, instead of stepping back into the past, I brought my Western heroine into the future.

What made it so much fun was imagining how a nineteenth-century woman would deal with all the modern mechanisms that make our work so much simpler…and our lives so much more complicated. It also gave me an opportunity to focus on how women’s rights, women’s fashions and women’s attitudes have changed over the past century—especially in relation to men! And imagine my hero’s surprise when the beautiful woman he rescues turns out to be from another time and place.

Those of you familiar with my HAWK’S WAY series have an extra treasure in store. You’ll be seeing the first appearance of Honey Farrell, the heroine of Honey and the Hired Hand, and Adam Phillips, the hero of The Rancher and the Runaway Bride. I had no inkling at the time I wrote A Little Time in Texas that these characters were destined to have their own books. But what fun to discover they did.

Happy reading!

A Little Time in Texas
JOAN JOHNSTON

For my sister Jennifer Eloise Wilkes,

who always embraces an adventure

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Copyright

1

Angela Taylor backed away until she came up against a wall of solid rock. She was trapped. She counted the odds. Six to one. Not good. She should have gotten off the road when she’d heard them coming. A woman walking alone was considered easy prey. She told herself to calm down, to breathe deeply. These no-good sidewinders didn’t know it, but there was more mettle in her little finger than most women had in their whole bodies. She wasn’t about to give up or give in. Her eyes narrowed, her stance widened, and her hands formed into fists. The six men surrounding her might eventually overwhelm her, but they would pay dearly before they did.

“Say there, little lady,” one cowboy drawled, “you gonna cooperate, or not?”

“I’m not.”

“Ain’t hardly enough of her to go around,” another cowboy complained.

“Don’t like that look on her face,” a third said. “Plain mean.”

Another laughed. “You scared, Slim? One woman ain’t no match for—”

Angel saw the cowboy’s mouth drop and his eyes go wide. At almost the same moment a large male hand clamped around her waist and she was jerked completely off her feet. She clawed and bit and kicked, but her captor didn’t let go. Angel could have wept when she realized that she’d been caught by such an old trick. There weren’t six cowboys. There were seven!

Only this one apparently didn’t intend to share her with the others. And they weren’t too happy about it.

“Hey, there! Where you goin’ with her?”

“That girl belongs to all of us! You bring her back here!”

“Hells bells! There’s a damned cave in that rock. Look out! He’s gettin’ away with her!”

“Come on! Let’s go after him!”

Angel would have screamed but she couldn’t breathe, the seventh man had such a tight hold on her. She struggled mightily in his arms but there was no question of escaping. The arm around her was thick with muscle. From the feel of the hard male body at her back, the rest of him was equally strong. Her feet hadn’t touched ground since he’d grabbed her. They were racing deeper and deeper into the cave, through a labyrinth of tunnels in the rock. It was pitch-black, and she had no idea how the cowboy was going to get them back out again.

Suddenly they stopped. There was no sound except the man’s harsh breathing and her grunts as she struggled against his strength.

Another fear, even deeper than that of the man, took hold of her. The dark. She was terrified of the dark. Abruptly she stopped struggling. Her breathing was tortured as fear overwhelmed her and held her paralyzed. Her eyes went wide, seeking the light.

There was none.

Angel whimpered, a pitiful, plaintive sound.

“Be still,” the seventh man hissed.

But she was in the grip of a terror more powerful than the threat of mere physical harm. The whimper became a low moan.

The kidnapper’s hand clamped over her mouth just as one of the cowboys in pursuit passed close enough that she could smell a month’s worth of sweat and leather and horse. Angel felt relieved, then horrified as the sound of boots on stone faded into the distance. Better to face six men in the light than one in the dark.

“You see anything?” one of the searching cowboys yelled to another.

“Not a damned thing!”

“We’ll never find them in the dark,” a third ranted.

“I’m gettin’ outta here. This place is spooked,” another said.

The voices moved away. They were giving up the hunt. Angel could still hear them. Voices carried in the dark.

“We can’t let him get away with stealin’ her like that,” a cowboy grumbled.

“Who said we’re gonna?”

“What’s that you got there? Dynamite? What’re you gonna do with that?”

“Blow them to Kingdom Come. Or leastwise trap ’em in there till Judgment Day.”

“You can’t—”

“Who’s gonna know? They ain’t gonna tell. ’Sides. It’ll serve ’em both right. If we can’t have her, nobody can.”

“I ain’t so sure about this,” one cowboy said.

By then it was too late. Several sticks of dynamite had been lit and tossed into the cave entrance.

Angel only had a second to acknowledge the fact that they were doomed. Anger flared. She wasn’t ready to die trapped in the dark. She wrenched free and started running for the opening of the cave. She had to escape!

She heard her captor swear low and mean as he chased her. He grunted with effort as he threw himself bodily at her. His forward motion forced her down hard as he covered her with his body.

Mere seconds passed before the first explosion came, followed by a second and a third. The sound was deafening. The repercussions rocked the inside walls of the cave. Angel choked on the settling dust, but only a few pebble-sized rocks fell near them.

“Where the hell did you think you were going?” the man asked as he sat up and brushed himself off.

“I would think that was obvious.” Angel tried peering through the gloom. She coughed from the dust. “Do you think we can dig ourselves out of here?”

“Not hardly.”

“At least we’re alive,” she said. “We—”

“Shut up and listen.”

“I don’t hear—”

He clamped a hand over her mouth, and she heard it. The ominous sound of cracking rock. The man cursed vehemently as a low rumble began, sending a shudder through the cave.

Suddenly he bolted upright and yanked her to her feet. “If you want to live, you’ll run. Run like the devil is at your heels!”

He took off in the dark, his hand clamped like a vise on her wrist. Angel careered after him, her arm stretched out of the socket as her short legs valiantly tried to keep pace with his long strides.

The rumbling sound seemed to follow them, until finally it caught up with them. Angel felt herself being propelled off her feet by a blast of air. With the kind of strength she could only imagine, the seventh man pulled her into the protective circle of his arms before they were both thrown forward.

“Get ready! Here it comes!”

Angel wanted to ask “Here what comes?” but it was already too late for that. There was no way she could have prepared for what followed. Behind them the cave began to collapse. Thousands of tons of rock fell, blocking their way out and sealing them in what had become their tomb.

When the dust settled again, Angel was surprised to realize that she could breathe easily. She wondered how long the air would last…and whether her kidnapper would take advantage of their remaining time alive to take what he had risked both their lives to get.

The man sat up and put a hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”

“Of all the stupid, shallow-pated, lack-wit questions I ever heard, that one—”

“Whoa, there, lady. That’s no way to talk to someone who just saved your life.”

Angel sat up abruptly, scooting backward out of range of his hand and stared into the dark. She knew he was there, she just couldn’t see him. “You have me all to yourself now,” she said bitterly. “For all the good it’ll do you. I have no intention of relinquishing my virtue to some varmint who—”

“Whoa, there,” he said. “I have no designs on your, uh, virtue.”

“Then why did you drag me in here?” she demanded.

“I was rescuing you, dammit!”

“Rescuing me! In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re trapped in here. We’re going to die! We’re—”

“Whoa, there, lady.”

“If you say that again, I’m going to scream,” Angel warned.

When the cowboy chuckled she said, “I’d like to know what you find so funny about this situation. We’re going to die. We’re trapped.”

“No, we’re not.”

“I don’t know where you’ve been for the past few minutes. To refresh your memory, this whole cave just came down practically on our heads. There must be tons of rock between us and the only way out of here.”

“That wasn’t the only way out.”

Angel was afraid to hope that she’d heard him right. “What?”

“There’s another way out. I’ve been in this cave before, but I’ve never come in this direction. Today I wasn’t paying attention and I took a wrong turn. I didn’t realize there was another way to daylight. You have no idea how surprised I was to see you.” He whistled long and low. “Sure looked like you planned to give those cowboys a run for their money.”

“I wouldn’t have made it easy for them,” she agreed. “You’d best be warned and watch out yourself.”

He laughed then, a rich, full sound. “Lady, I wouldn’t dare make a move on a hellcat like you. By the way, what’s your name?”

“Angel.”

That made him laugh again. “Far as I can tell, you’re anything but.”

“Now, look here, Mr.—”

“Name’s Dallas. Dallas Masterson. Pleased to meet you, Angel—Angel what?”

“Taylor.”

“Pleased to meet you, Angel Taylor.”

She imagined him tipping his hat. Only she was pretty sure he wasn’t wearing one. “If you know the way out, why are we still sitting here?”

“There is a slight problem.”

Angel tensed. “What’s that?”

“I lost all my gear back there at the entrance—exit—to the cave. I don’t have any light. So while I know there’s another way out, we may have a problem finding it in the dark.”

Angel had forgotten about the dark. Now the blackness rose again to suffocate her. “Oh, dear God.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m afraid of the dark,” Angel whispered.

An instant later strong arms embraced her. Dallas tucked her head down under his chin. As he did so, at least a day’s growth of whiskers scraped against her temple. Pressed up so close to him, she could hear his heart thumping against his chest.

“Better?” he murmured.

To Angel’s surprise, she did feel better. The dark was not nearly so frightening within the cocoon of warmth he had created.

“How long have you been afraid of the dark?” Dallas asked.

“Since I—” She stiffened in his arms. “That’s none of your business. Look, are you going to just sit here, or are we going to try to find the way out?”

He didn’t answer with words, simply stood and took her along with him. “Let’s go,” he said curtly.

Angel heard the irritation in his voice. She hadn’t meant to be so rude, but she couldn’t explain something so personal to a perfect stranger. Still, she couldn’t help feeling grateful when he took her hand in his and didn’t let go of it. Of course, he probably only held on because he didn’t want to lose track of her in the dark. But she found comfort from the contact, all the same.

“Coming down,” he said.

“What?”

“The ceiling’s getting lower. Duck your—”

“Ouch!”

“You okay?”

“Of all the dumb, noddy-polled, loplolly questions I ever—”

Dallas chuckled. “You’ve got a quaint way of expressing yourself, Angel. But I get the message.” He reached back and found her hand where she had pressed it to her forehead. “How bad is it?”

“I’ll live.”

“Good girl.” He patted her on the back and pushed her head lower. “Keep your head down. It gets worse.”

So much for sympathy, Angel thought.

He was right, though. Things did get worse. Soon they were crouching, then crawling on their bellies.

“How much farther?” she asked.

“Another hour. Maybe two.”

Five minutes more would have been too long. Another hour—or two—seemed an eternity. She was exhausted. There was a hole in the knee of her trousers, and skin was scraping off every time she moved. “Can we stop and rest a minute?”

“There’s a place where we can sit, just a little farther on.”

That sounded more appealing than stopping on her belly, so Angel kept crawling. A few minutes later they were sitting up across from each other. There wasn’t enough room for Angel to stretch out completely, so she sat with her knees upraised. The stone was cool behind her back, and she thanked whoever was responsible for the dry rock floor and the apparent lack of animal life in the cave.

“How could your friends do something like this to you?” Angel asked.

“They weren’t my friends.”

“Then why did you get involved?” Angel asked.

“It’s my job to help damsels in distress.”

Angel smiled despite the awfulness of the circumstances. “What are you? A knight in shining armor?”

“No. I’m a Texas Ranger.”

“Of all the tom-doodle, gim-crack things I ever heard—why didn’t you just say so in the first place?”

“I never got the chance.”

“When I think how scared I was of you—and all for nothing.”

“Does that mean you aren’t scared of me now?”

There was a long pause. “Should I be?”

He snorted. “Not hardly. All I want to do is get you out of here and headed safely home. Then I plan to wash my hands of you and forget I ever met you.”

Absurdly, Angel was irritated by his attitude. So, he couldn’t wait to get shuck of her. Well, it wasn’t any skin off her nose if he did. She would be glad to be shed of him, too.

“What were you doing out there all alone?” he asked.

“Walking.”

“Maybe I should have asked where you were headed.”

“San Antonio.”

“That’s quite a walk from the hill country southwest of Austin, especially for a sprite of a woman like you.”

“I’m stronger than I look.”

“I won’t argue with that,” he said, chuckling. “It’s still a long way for a woman to be walking by herself.”

“It’s either travel alone or not at all,” Angel said.

He paused, then asked, “No husband?”

Angel sighed. “No. No family at all.”

The thought of all the walking alone she had yet to do reminded her about her skinned knee. “Do you by any chance have a bandanna?” she asked.

“Sure. Why?”

“My trousers are ripped and my right knee’s getting scraped worse every time I move. I wanted to try and bandage it.”

“I’ll do it.”

Before Angel could protest, Dallas had reached for her. Only he missed her knee and found her thigh. She tensed at the touch of his hand. His fingers walked their way down her leg to her knee.

“Found it,” he said. “Feels like you skinned it pretty bad.”

Angel hissed in a breath of air as his fingers gently probed her wounded knee. She stiffened as he straightened her leg out across his lap and began tying the bandanna in place. She wasn’t used to being touched by anyone, and most especially not by a man.

“That ought to do it,” Dallas said, patting her leg.

Angel suddenly wished it wasn’t so dark. Maybe if she could see the face of this stranger, she wouldn’t feel so awkward in his presence. But there wasn’t any light and wouldn’t be for at least another hour—or two.

“What do you look like?” Angel asked.

There was a long silence. Dallas drew in a breath of air and huffed it out. “I don’t know what to say.”

“What color eyes do you have?”

“Brown.”

“Hair?”

“Brown.”

“How would you describe your face?”

“It’s just a face,” he said curtly.

“You’re not being much help!” Angel snapped back.

“What do you want me to say?”

Angel realized it had been foolish to ask him to describe himself. But she was glad he hadn’t bragged he was handsome…or admitted he was plain. Still, she was curious.

If the situation were different, she would never have asked; but if the situation were different, she wouldn’t have needed to. “Could I touch your face? I think I could tell by feeling, what you look like.”

He hesitated so long she was afraid he was going to refuse. At last he said, “All right.”

To her surprise he lifted her up and set her on his lap facing him, so her legs straddled his waist. It was a far more intimate pose than she would have liked, but she was afraid to complain lest he withdraw his permission for her examination. She was conscious of her breasts inches from his chest, of the heat of his thighs under hers. She could feel his breath on her face. An uncontrollable shiver ran down her spine.

“Anytime you’re ready,” he said.

Angel held her breath as she reached out tentatively in the dark. She found his chin. There was a small cleft in it.

“When was the last time you shaved?” she asked, testing the rough bristle of beard under her fingers.

“Three days ago.”

She slid her hand along his jaw and felt the muscle work under her hand. It was a strong jaw and led to prominent cheekbones. His nose was straight and not too big, but it had a bump along the bridge.

“What happened here?” she asked.

“Broke it in a fistfight. Twice.”

There were wrinkles on his forehead and crow’s-feet at the edges of his eyes. He had done some living.

“How old are you?”

“I’ll be thirty-four next month. How old are you?”

“A lady never tells her age,” she said, then added, “Twenty-two.”

He had a widow’s peak. His hair was thick and soft, and she let her fingers slide through it all the way down to where it curled over his collar.

“You need a haircut.”

“I like it the way it is.”

Apparently he was used to getting his own way.

His eyes were wide-set and large, and the lashes were ridiculously long and curled up from his cheeks where they lay. His eyelids were softer than the skin on the rest of his face, which felt not quite smooth, but not leathery, either. The scar on his cheek intrigued her.

“What happened here?”

“Knife fight.”

She frowned. “Seems you get into a lot of fights.”

“Hazard of the job.”

Angel had left his mouth for last, because it seemed the most personal of his features. There were deep slashes on either side of it. She wondered if he dimpled when he smiled.

“Smile for me.”

“Why?”

“Please.”

What she felt under her hand was more like a grimace, but yes, there were dimples there. “You can relax now,” she said.

She felt a genuine smile form under her hands as he said, “Thanks.”

His mouth, when he relaxed it, was wide, the lips thin, although the lower lip protruded slightly. She traced it with her fingers and felt him stiffen.

“Does that tickle?”

“No,” he said in a husky voice.

Suddenly his hands tightened on her waist.

“Angel?”

She felt his breath on her face, felt him closing the distance between their bodies. What did he want?

“You can tell a lot more about my mouth this way,” he said.

Suddenly she felt his lips on hers. Soft. And damp. And insistent. And yes, the bottom lip was full. It was an altogether wonderful mouth.

His tongue brushed against her closed lips, seeking entrance. The feeling was so exquisite that Angel waited for it to come again. His lips teased hers, coaxing. His tongue brushed her mouth again, and she gasped at the pleasure. His tongue slipped inside and retreated just as quickly.

Angel felt her heart pounding; it was hard to catch her breath. She grabbed handfuls of Dallas’s shirt.

“Dallas, I—”

His mouth captured hers again. She kept her lips sealed, afraid of what might happen if she relented to his probing tongue. This was all forbidden territory. Virgin territory.

Suddenly Angel realized she was kissing a perfect stranger. She pushed against his chest with the heels of her hands, and her mouth was abruptly released.

Angel had been so wrapped up in her own reactions to the kiss she hadn’t noticed what was happening to Dallas. Now that they were no longer kissing, she realized his breathing was as tortured as hers, and his heart was pounding under her fist.

“Did you find out everything you wanted to know?” Dallas asked in a voice harsh with restrained need.

“Yes,” Angel gasped.

He set her away from him. “Then I think it’s time we got started again.”

He headed away from her, and she had no choice but to follow, unless she wanted to be left alone in the dark. To her relief the cave ceiling almost immediately rose again, so they could walk upright. When it did, he reached back for her hand.

“I don’t want to lose you now,” he said.

“I want to thank you for rescuing me.”

“We’re not out of here yet.”

“What could possibly happen now?” Angel asked. “I mean—”

Angel was in his arms so fast, it was as though an unseen force had shoved her there. One of his hands fisted in her hair, the other held her hips hard against his. They were aligned from breast to belly, and there was no mistaking his arousal.

“Does that answer your question?” he demanded.

“Of all the dim-witted—”

“Don’t start,” he warned. “I was doing just fine until you started all that touching. I had put every picture I had of you out of my mind and—”

“What pictures?”

“You backed up against a sheer rock wall, that white gold hair of yours flying in the wind. The way your breasts looked straining against that damned excuse for a shirt you’re wearing. The sight of those blue eyes of yours flashing defiance against impossible odds. I haven’t stopped wanting you since the first moment I laid eyes on you, lady. If you’re smart, you won’t provoke me into taking what you’ve got to offer.”

“I should’ve known you were just like all the others,” she hissed. “Texas Ranger, my eye. Where’s your badge, Dallas? I had hold of your shirt pocket, and it wasn’t there.”

“I took it off.”

“What for?”

“I’m on a leave of absence.”

“Why?”

He hesitated, then said in a stark, quiet voice, “A friend of mine, another Texas Ranger, was killed three days ago saving my worthless hide.”

“I’m sorry,” Angel murmured.

His grasp tightened on her. “Sorry doesn’t help, Angel. If I’d been the one who was killed, there was nobody to give a damn. Cale left a wife and two kids behind. And I lost a friend who was like a brother to me.

“I walked into this cave trying to figure out some reason why he’s dead and I’m still alive. Alive enough to want a woman. Alive enough to want you!”

“Dallas, I—”

It was too late for words. His lips found hers in the dark, and this time he wasn’t gentle. The same mouth that had been so soft was hard with unrestrained need. Ravaging. Plundering. Taking instead of giving.

Behind the need Angel felt his anguish, and she responded to it. Her arms circled him in comfort. Her body softened against his, offering solace. As suddenly as it had begun, the desperation receded, leaving only the need.

He could easily have taken what he wanted from her. She couldn’t have resisted him; he was much bigger, much stronger than she. But as reason returned, his mouth left hers. His arms surrounded her, and he lifted her off the ground as he hid his face in the fall of silky hair at her shoulder.

Angel felt the strain in his body as he fought his grief. He shuddered once, and she felt him swallow hard. She reached up a hand and smoothed his hair back from his brow.

“It’s all right,” she crooned. “It wasn’t your fault. I know you must have done everything you could. Why, you rescued me today without a whisker of thought for your own safety.”

He didn’t answer her, but he didn’t push her away, either. She murmured comforting words, words she knew would not bring back his friend, but which might make him believe his was not such a worthless hide, after all.

For the first time in her life Angel was grateful for the dark. It had allowed this stranger to seek her out; it had allowed her to comfort him. Yet neither had to face the other when he at last lowered her to the ground and stepped away from her.

“Thanks,” he said.

“You’re welcome.”

Dallas took her hand again, and they began to walk. He kept close to the wall to maintain his bearings, until at last the darkness gave way to gray shadows.

“I can see light,” Angel said.

Dallas began to move faster, but Angel wasn’t about to be left behind now. They were almost running when he suddenly stopped.

There it was. The entrance to the cave. The sun was shining. The grass was bright green except where spring wildflowers left splashes of orange and yellow.

Angel’s heart skipped a beat. That was wrong. There shouldn’t be any spring flowers. It was fall. An unusually early frost had already turned the grass brown. But perhaps these were fall flowers; and maybe the frost hadn’t caught this particular glen.

She stayed beside Dallas as they left the cave. Bees buzzed. Birds sang. The mesquite blossomed.

Angel held tightly to Dallas’s hand. “It’s very pretty here.”

“It’s always like this in the spring.”

Angel frowned and looked up at Dallas…and caught her breath when she saw his face in the light. How could he have called those eyes brown? They were hazel, dancing with flecks of green. His hair might have been brown once upon a time, but the sun had streaked it with chestnut and gold. His face wasn’t handsome, nor was it plain. But the wide-set eyes, the cheekbones, the strong jaw were undeniably appealing. And the mouth…

“Don’t look at me like that,” Dallas said. “Not unless you’re willing this time to finish what you start.”

Angel’s gaze left his mouth and met his eyes with their ridiculous curly lashes. “I know this has been a trying few hours. But did you just say that it’s spring?”

“It is,” he said.

“It’s not,” Angel contradicted.

His brow furrowed. He reached out and gently brushed aside the hair that covered her bruised forehead. “Are you all right?”

She brushed his hand away. “When you carried me into the cave it was October.”

“It’s April.”

“October,” she argued.

He shook his head. “No, Angel. I’m afraid not.”

“I don’t understand.”

He thrust a hand through his sun-streaked hair. “Maybe you blocked things out—the shock of being attacked and all,” he suggested.

She shook her head. “I remember everything that’s happened to me since the minute those six cowboys cornered me against that rock.”

“Look, maybe I’d better get you to a doctor.”

“I don’t need a doctor,” Angel insisted. “You do.”

“Yeah, well, maybe—”

Dallas had been urging Angel forward beyond the hills that framed the cave opening. As the terrain leveled, she stopped dead at the sight of something extraordinary in front of her. “What’s that?”

“What?”

She pointed. “That thing. What is it?”

Dallas looked worried. “Look, maybe you bumped your head in there worse than you thought.” He reached out to the small lump on her forehead.

“No. I’m fine,” she insisted. “It’s just a scratch.” She stared at him expectantly, then looked over at the strange black object.

“You really don’t know what that is?”

“No. I really don’t. Do you?”

“It’s my pickup truck.”

“So? What is it?”

Dallas stepped away and looked long and hard at her. “If this is some kind of joke, it isn’t funny.”

“Why would I joke about something like this?” she demanded.

“Where have you been living? This is the twentieth century. Everyone knows—”

She grabbed his arm so tight her nails dug into his flesh. “Did you say the twentieth century?”

“Yes. So?”

Angel swallowed hard. “That isn’t possible.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s 1864.”

This time it was Dallas’s turn to stare. “It’s 1992.”

Angel shook her head in denial. “You’re wrong. When you dragged me into that cave, it was October 3, 1864,” she insisted.

“When I stepped in from this side, it was April 14, 1992,” Dallas countered.

Angel’s eyes went wide as she backed away from him. “How could that be?”

“I don’t know,” Dallas said. His lips flattened into a thin line. “But if what you’re saying is the truth—” he paused, and it was clear he wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not “—there’s sure as hell no going back the way you came. If you are from the past, it looks to me like you’re trapped here with me—in the future.”

Angel felt the sunlight dimming around her, forming a single tunnel of darkness. It sucked her down, like a whirlpool, and she felt herself surely, inexorably sliding into it.