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

woman, and I know they’re viewed differently in the nineteenth century. I don’t mind being called eccentric, but I don’t want to be hit on by a bunch of cowboys who haven’t had a bath in months. Of course, I don’t smell so good right now, but…”

“Aunt Charlotte and Uncle Jack went back to 1864, traveling as a real brother and sister, which caused her problems as a single woman. She attracted the attention of a stalker, who found a way to frame Jack as a conspirator in the plot to assassinate President Lincoln and then kidnapped her.”

“Holy shit. I don’t want to deal with a stalker or a bunch of persistent cowboys.” She blew out a breath. “I guess I’ll be your wife, then.”

He grumbled. “You guess? Hell! That’s not exactly the reaction I thought I’d get from a woman when I popped the question.”

“I hope next time you’ll get a more enthusiastic response.” Ensley reached for another backstrap and gnawed on it. “Charlotte must be one gutsy lady.”

JC tossed another bone into the firepit. “She is, and you know what?” He pulled another backstrap off the rabbit. “She’s the only woman, other than my mom, who can tell Dad what to do, and he’ll do it. My sister-in-law can get up in his face, too, but it’s always a battle. Neither one of them wants to give in.”

“So what happens?”

“They call a truce and move on.”

Ensley shivered. “I’ve met your dad several times, and he scares me. He also reminds me of the characters in Scottish historicals—fierce and intimidating.”

“Yeah, he can be that. And when he comes back for us, I recommend you stay as far away from me as possible so you won’t get caught up in the battle of wills.”

She stretched her neck to ease the stiffness caused by sleeping without proper head and neck support. “I’ll try to remember to do that.”

His hand came down on her nape, large and warm from holding the hot dandelion coffee. She groaned at the tender stroking of his fingers.

“So we’re James Cullen and Ensley Fraser from New York City. If anyone asks where we live, let’s just say the Upper West Side and leave it at that.”

“Let’s keep it simple. I’ve edited time travel novels and lies always come back and bite heroines on the ass. I don’t want that to happen. A lie could destroy any goodwill we build up.”

“When someone lies to me, it’s like they spit in the punch bowl. After that, I go find another watering hole.”

She couldn’t stop the quiver in her cheeks and tug on her lips and finally burst out laughing. It felt good to fall back into their college conversational rhythm.

“I have a question,” JC said. “If we’re in the Badlands to hunt, where’s our gear? Where’s my rifle?”

“Oops. That’s a problem. Let me think.” She took a few sips of coffee, letting her mind wander back through her clients’ books, looking for plotlines that would work for them, but came up short.

A morning breeze whispered through the trees, rustling the leaves, and she shivered. She set her plate aside and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. After a few more moments, she said, “Okay. How about this? We took the Northern Pacific Railroad—”

“What if it’s not built yet?”

“It was constructed right after the Civil War, I think. Anyway, we could disembark at Bismarck and change trains to Fort Pembina in northeastern North Dakota.”

“What for?”

“Hold your horses. Inspiration doesn’t come all at once. I’m getting there.”

“We need to stay close to the truth, right?”

“Okay, then let’s use my mother’s family history. Her several-times-great- grandparents came from Scotland and settled in Selkirk in 1812. The settlement eventually established Fort Daer. My ancestors left there and bought land in central North Dakota to build a ranch.”

“But there’s no ranch there now.”

“Right. So that means my ancestors are still in the Fort Daer area. What if they died and left their property to my parents in New York?”

“Why aren’t they here with us?”

“Because…they’re too old to travel.”

“So we went to settle the estates. And now, instead of returning to New York the way we arrived, we struck out on our own, so I could hunt bison.”

“And,” she said smartly, “you didn’t have any luck.”

“And,” he said just as smartly, “you complained the entire time. So we’re going to Medora to catch the train back to New York City.”

“Then what happened to our other horse and the rest of our gear?”

He glanced up, scratching his jaw. “How about… We left it on the reservation.”

“Leaving the gear would make sense, but not the horse.”

“So, were we robbed, then?” he asked.

“Why would the robbers leave us with one horse? Because they were dumb, or what?”

“Hey, you’re the writer and editor. Keep plotting.”

She tapped her fingernails against her chin, thinking about plotlines and what would work. “How about this? Your horse fell and broke a leg several days ago, and you barely avoided a serious injury. Your rifle was damaged, though. That’ll explain why you don’t have one. We tried to carry the extra saddle and gear but gave up and abandoned everything we didn’t need to survive.”

“We’ve got a good start. Let’s get moving for now. We have plenty of time to refine our backstory on the way.” JC stood and cleaned the plates and cups in the river.

“I’m going to freshen up before we leave, and I’ll clean up the campsite when I come back. Can I use the stuff in your Dopp kit?”

He helped her stand, then dug into his saddlebags for the kit and a towel. “Help yourself, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?

That got her attention quicker than a bronc bucking her off its back. She whipped around to face him. “Look. We need ground rules. We can tell people we’re married, but we’re not sleeping together, and there’s no sweet talk or cheek-kissing. Okay?”

His chin snapped up, and so did his hands as he took a step back, pinning her with glittering brown eyes that made