A Moment in Time by Deb Stover Read Free Book Online Page B

but she'd watched enough television to know it took either a time machine or a portal–a tunnel?–to travel through time.   She was bound and determined to stay close to her exit.   Except the painting didn't exist.   Yet.   One more reason for her to pose in the nude.   Again.
           "Get a grip, Clarke."   She rested the back of her hand against her forehead and closed her eyes, summoning everything she could remember about "Quantum Leap" and Back to the Future .   But instead of Scott Bakula and Michael J. Fox, she saw George Clooney–rather, the man who'd hauled her fanny out of the street earlier.
           "Cole...something.   Morrison, that's it."   At least his name wasn't Blade.   Now that would've put a decidedly horrific slant to this entire predicament.   "That sorry son of a bitch.   This is all his fault."
           A shuffling sound from the hall and a knock at the door jerked her to the present.   Past-present?   "What a mess."   Jackie sat up and swung her feet to the floor just as the door opened.  
           Dottie sashayed in, followed by the ever-filthy Zeb pushing a bathtub on squeaky wheels.   Fingers of steam drifted up from the water's surface.
           A bath would make Jackie feel better, and maybe it would finish off her headache.   Of course, she could always drown herself, but it'd be just her luck this was really just a coma, after all.
           Dottie dropped some towels on the bed beside the robe, then pointed to a collection of bottles on the dresser.   "Fancy stuff Rupert ordered for you.   Zeb'll come back to fetch the water later."
           Zeb waggled his woolly eyebrows.   "I could just stay an'–"
           Jackie leveled her gaze at him.   "Out, you pervert."   She drew a deep breath.   "But thank you for the water."
           Zeb looked almost as surprised as Dottie by Jackie's gratitude.   Good.   If she was going to stay here for a while, she'd better start making nice with the natives.   Even mean old Dottie.
           "And thank you, Dottie...for everything."
           A look of total confusion flitted across the woman's face, then she sighed.   "You're welcome."   After a moment, she narrowed her gaze and flashed Jackie a wicked grin.   "Rupert'll be up after your bath to take you to the artist.   He works in a cabin on the edge of town–says it gives him inspiration."
           Like Blade.   "Today?"  
           "Yep, and that robe's all you'll be needin'."   Dottie turned toward the door.   "But you won't even need that for very long."
           "Damn."   Jackie watched the pair leave, laughing all the way.   The image of Lolita's portrait flashed into her brain and made her wince.
           After a moment, she jerked herself from a state of near shock and rushed across the room to lock the door.   Somehow, some way, she had to endure posing for that portrait.   If it was her time portal, it was also her only hope.
           And just what would happen when the real Lolita put in an appearance?
           Groaning, Jackie stripped off her clothes and stepped into the tub.   She had to think of something.   Fast.   As much as she hated it here, the last thing she wanted was to lose access to her time.   When the real and appropriately-endowed Lolita showed up, Goodfellow would toss Jackie and her B cups   out on her butt.   She had to buy some time before–
           "Waitaminute."   A shiver raced through her, despite the water's warmth.   If she didn't know better, she might think she was starting to believe this.
    * * *
           Cole gave the reins a gentle tug until the mare his wife had named Ruth came to a reluctant stop.   "Don't worry, girl," he said, patting the side of her neck, "you'll get those oats soon."
           The horse stretched her neck to reach the early blades of grass around the base of a small aspen tree.   The weather