The Sunstone Brooch : Time Travel Romance by Katherine Logan (i am reading a book TXT) 📕

Never taking his eyes off James Cullen, Paul rolled his shoulder repeatedly and stretched his neck from side to side. “Look at it this way. Since we’re here in 1885, it’s obvious traveling through time is possible. If that sci-fi fantasy is true, then it’s not a stretch to believe a twelfth-century Viking has a magic healing cloak?”

“I hope that argument works with Meredith.” Elliott watched Paul rub his shoulder, and it reminded him that he hadn’t asked about a possible injury. “Yer shoulder’s bothering ye. Let Emily look at it.”

Paul waved away Elliott’s concern. “Erik knows his strength and how to use it. He could have ripped off my arm. It’s a little sore, but it’s still attached. JC is more important right now. Don’t worry about it.”

Emily put her hand on Paul’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I should have looked at it immediately, but I got distracted.”

He removed Emily’s hand and kissed it. “Thanks, but don’t worry about it. The heat and humidity here will increase blood flow to the muscles and keep them loose. I’ll be fine.” He released Emily’s hand.

“Okay, but if you change your mind—”

“I’ll let you know,” Paul said in an irritated tone as he rotated his shoulder. “But I have another problem.” He held up his satellite phone. “This doesn’t work here, so once you guys leave, I won’t be able to communicate with you. I could try smoke signals I guess, or a string and a tin can.”

Elliott drummed his fingers on his hips as he stared out the window at the four horses hitched to the rail. “Sean, if ye have a loose horse on the farm, will it return to the barn?”

“Usually. Why?”

“It could solve Paul’s problem. If I unsaddle his horse, he could send it back to the barn as a signal. As soon as the horse shows up, I’ll ride out here.”

“Or I could send a farmhand here to sit on the porch and wait for a message,” Sean said.

“That would start rumors,” Elliott said. “Best to keep this quiet for now.”

“There could be more men out there looking for James Cullen or even Ensley,” Paul said.

“Shit!” Elliott punctuated the expletive with a flat-palmed blow to the wall. “Goddamn it. We can’t let our guard down. I’ll talk to Meredith and come back with weapons and ammunition.” He glanced at Paul. “Ye’re armed, aren’t ye?”

“Yeah, but I only have one extra magazine. I didn’t come here planning to defend the OK Corral.”

“Is that the gunfight in Arizona between the Earps and Doc Holliday and the cowboys? I’m surprised ye know about it,” Sean said.

“It’s one of the most infamous stories of the Wild West.”

“Hmm. The strangest things are important in yer time,” Sean said, walking toward the door. “I’ll unsaddle yer horse, Paul. But if ye release him before Elliott returns, be sure to tie up the reins so he won’t get tangled in the briars or bushes.”

“Okay,” Paul mumbled, glancing away and massaging his shoulder.

Elliott shot a glance at Paul, knowing the lad was sensitive because he wasn’t a skilled equestrian, but after watching Paul with Erik, Elliott realized Paul wasn’t at all who he appeared to be.

“If you change your mind and want me to look at your shoulder—”

“Not now, Emily!” Paul snapped and gave her a look that could have held back a weather front. But Emily just gave him a Charlotte smile—a Southern bless-your-heart look to soften the condemnation that followed. Elliott had learned to brace himself every time he saw one coming.

“Erik could have torn your rotator cuff. That arm won’t do you much good. I hope you’re left-handed.” She gave him that smile again. “I’ll be outside with Sean.”

When the door closed behind Emily, Elliott crossed the room to stand at the foot of the bed. “Is there anything I can bring back for ye?”

“Paper and pencils or pen and ink,” Paul said.

“There’s plenty in the cabinet over there. Sean comes here to sketch, so he keeps it well stocked. There’s also coffee and whisky. Nothing to eat, though. I’ll have meals prepared and sent down from the house.”

“Appreciate it,” Paul said.

Elliott closed his eyes, trying to free his mind for a few moments before he left to talk to Meredith. An image of James Cullen’s broken and bloodied body fixed itself in front of Elliott’s mind’s eye. While most of his son’s skin was black and blue, the rippled skin on his chest and arms was the color of rot. If not for the cedar and eucalyptus aromas inside the cabin, the stink of decay would have sickened him.

The horror of it all knocked Elliott off balance, and he swayed.

Paul rushed to his side. “Take it easy.” He hooked his foot under a nearby chair’s spindle and dragged it close to the bed. “Sit here. I’ll get Emily.”

“No need, Paul.” Elliott held on to the top rail of the chair. “Sometimes I see things.”

Paul’s questioning stare went from Elliott to the bed and back to Elliott. “Can you see beneath the cloth?”

Elliott’s eyes watered, his spirit nearly crushed, but he had to tell someone the truth. It would be a burden for Paul, but someone needed to know. He dropped into the chair and fingered the thick fabric of his trousers, trying to straighten the stiff crease, but the trousers didn’t have one. He stilled his hands.

“Except for the birthmark, James Cullen is un…recognizable. They broke his nose and jaw, knocked out his teeth, and broke his legs, hips, and fingers. The skin on his arms and chest is black and shriveled up, but his organs are functioning as if he’s only asleep. He’s alive on the inside but rotting on the outside.”

Elliott clasped Paul’s arm. “Meredith must never see him this way. Ye must do whatever it takes to keep her from pulling back the cloth. She’ll get pissed, but getting over that would be easier than being haunted for the rest of her life by the