Unwilling to give up so soon, he dismounted once more to sit on a granite ledge near a patch of grass so Traveler could have a bite to eat if he chose to do so. Reno kept his eyes on the back wall of the box canyon. He didn’t know whether waiting would make a difference, but it was worth a shot. If anything happened, he’d be here to witness it.
…At the ranch house, Journey felt sick at heart. She kept walking to the window overlooking the park and wondering if Reno was out there somewhere or if he was lost to her forever. With no one there to witness her pain, she gave in to the tears. Not even the comical dogs could get her mind off the hours she’d spent with Reno Black.
As the seconds ticked by, she relived every detail of the time they’d spent together. She recalled every word he’d said. How he’d handled those perverts who’d chased her through the park. How he reacted to the skyscrapers and jets. How he’d looked sitting at the kitchen table dressed only in a towel. All of that had been real, hadn’t it?
She hurried to the bathroom just to stare at herself in the mirror. Could her mind be playing tricks? “Did I spend the day with a man from the past or am I losing it?” When her reflection gave Journey no assurances, she hurried through the house searching for something – anything – that would prove to her he’d really been here. Was there no trace? Nothing? Finally, she came to the guest room where he’d slept. The bed was unmade, the covers thrown back. There was an indention on the pillow where he’d laid his head.
With a gasp of pain, she crawled into the bed and buried her face in the pillow, breathing in his scent. She tried to force her mind to calm down, her body to stop trembling. Journey needed to put this whole thing in perspective. After years of aching for Reno, she’d finally gotten her wish. Magically, he’d come to her; she’d been blessed to spend a few precious hours in his presence. In spite of her dreaming, no part of Journey ever really expected this marvel to come to pass. Time travel was supposed to be impossible. So, how could this happen?
Could it happen again?
Journey tamped down the hope in her heart. She couldn’t expect him to go back and forth from the 19th century like he was a commuter on the subway. No, this was a one-time thing. A wrinkle in time, so to speak. She’d been given a great gift, but only for a brief moment. Part of her wondered if having that small taste of heaven was worth the pain of letting go? Wouldn’t she be better off if she’d never known him? Creating a fantasy world based on entries in an old journal was one thing – but having the hero step out of those pages to rescue her and kiss her within an inch of her life were two completely different things.
After a few minutes of contemplation, Journey decided she wouldn’t change a thing – except for the part where he said goodbye.
As the hours progressed, she sought to push aside her grief and do some work. First, she put on that pot of soup she’d been craving. Second, she settled at her workstation in the sunroom and mixed together the appropriate oils to make a spray to combat restless leg syndrome. Peppermint, lavender, chamomile, ginger, rosemary and frankincense. Fifteen drops of each in fifteen milliliters of magnesium. Once she packed a bottle for shipment, she slipped a bar of lavender soap into the box with a note telling the woman to put the bar beneath the bottom sheet of her bed. Yes, this was a little strange, but her great grandmother’s recipe book swore by it and many of her customers reported how well it worked. “There’s many mysteries in this old world we can’t explain.” She could vouch for that as truth, no doubt about it.
Work seemed to soothe her, so she moved on to another project. This time it was a blend for allergies. The best herb she’d found to relieve the symptoms of seasonal allergies was the humble stinging nettle. She picked her own and packed the leaves in a jar filled with vodka. After two months, she could mix the tincture with lemongrass, red clover, fennel, spearmint, and lavender.