Captured by Time by Carolyn Faulkner, Alta Hensley Read Free Book Online

looked tarnished, and she had a strong feeling that that wasn't the only thing about him that was. Her bold inspection of him had him resting his hand on the butt of his gun in a manner that made her think he stood like that a lot, although that didn't ease where her troubled mind was going in the least.
    As fanciful as the notion was, and despite how likely it was that she was going to make herself look like a complete fool in front of him, she had seen too many science fiction programs not to ask—but only after she'd wrenched her arm from his and sat down on the edge of the bed. In the unlikely event that she heard what she didn't want to hear, she didn't want to faint on him. There'd be no telling where, or when, she guessed, she'd wake up the next time.
    Bracing herself with a hand on the bed to either side of her hips, she asked, "Just out of curiosity, Jude, what year is this?"
    "What year?" he asked, obviously confused.
    "Yes. It's a simple question. Don't you know?" For all her expertise on the period, she had no idea what the average person from that era might have known, beyond the fact that a lot of them were entirely uneducated and couldn't read. But this man was familiar with Shakespeare, so she figured she had a better bet that he would know.
    His frown deepened, as if she'd insulted him. "Of course I do. It's 1880."
    Cimmy stared at the floor and decided to take a deep breath and question him a bit further before she allowed fully fledged panic to set in. " Eighteen hundred and eighty?" she asked breathlessly, clutching at the bedspread.
    "Yes. Why? What year did you think it was?" he said curiously.
    She didn't know why, but she had a sudden flash of insight that he may not find it shocking if she did state a different year, despite the fact that she didn't look drastically different from the women he knew… especially naked. And now that she was wearing some other woman's robe, she probably looked just like any other prostitute. But still, she had to seem somehow out of place to him, regardless. The way he looked at her gave that away.
    But she kept silent. She didn't know if she should tell him or not, but decided to err on the side of discretion, just in case. Cimmy didn't think they were likely to hang her for a witch in this era, but she wasn't very keen on the idea of putting that theory to the test, either. Announcing she was from another time would make her either look like a witch, or crazy. She would agree with crazy, no doubt about that, but she didn't want to be viewed as a witch in 1880 in the Wild West.
    Instead of answering him, she got up and began a methodical search of the room to see if there was anything at all in it that was hers, working in a counter-clockwise motion, starting with the bedside table. As she did so, she covertly looked for signs of any kind of technology or electronic gadget of any sort—anything at all.
    But then, the room was supposed to be authentic to the era, so it didn't have electrical outlets or double paned windows or heating ducts to begin with. The entire town was set up to be that way, although, on second thought, she would have bet that there was a back office of sorts somewhere in this building. She had said it herself; they had taken her Visa card number. They had to have a modern niche in order to do that, somewhere around there—unless they used that old knucklebuster thing to make an imprint and then just sent in the charges, like they used to do in the old days.
    The old days! She almost chuckled. She was thinking of the 1980s, not the 1880s.
    She turned up nothing at all in the room, until she felt behind the armoire and latched onto something that felt familiar—it was her doctor's bag! She'd never felt so happy to see anything in her life. On her way back to the bed, she was brought up short by Jude, who also had a hand on the bag.
    "That's mine, and I'll thank you to take your hands off it," he growled. He didn't raise his voice, but his words