"I thought you were saving that for goodbye."
Smiling, he ran his hand up and down her arm. "So I was."
He knew he shouldn't continue to hold her. He knew he was setting himself up for an unbearably lonely return trip home, but he couldn't bring himself to release her. He was both relieved and bereft when she sat up out of his embrace, appearing to have something else on her mind.
She swept her hair behind her ear. "Nonnie was my best friend, but now even she seems changed. We don't really have a lot in common anymore."
Tate wondered that her "best friend" hadn't made much of an effort to find her, and suddenly he had a discomfiting thought. Perhaps Nonnie isn't real. Maybe she was an imaginary friend to help Lita through a difficult time.
Tate wanted to know more. "Tell me about school. You said you were completing your masters degree. That's quite an accomplishment. What is your field of interest?"
"History."
"Ah." His perceptive inflection slipped out without thought.
"What do you mean, 'Ah'?"
He shook his head with eyebrows raised. "Nothing. Go on."
She suddenly switched gears. "Tate, I know you're attracted to me even though you try so hard not to show it." She grabbed her reticule off the seat and pried it open to pull out their portrait. "This picture proves it. You bent the rules because you wanted to touch me, and just a minute ago you did what Mrs. K. would have scolded you for because you want me close to you."
He considered his words. "Max was right. You're very pretty, as well as intelligent, and you're good with Nellie. I was also quite impressed with your baby delivery assistance, and I thought maybe we could… but… well, you tell me you're leaving today."
She sat back. "Just because we're saying goodbye today doesn't mean it's forever. We can write letters until I'm finished with school. I only have one more year."
Tate forced a smile. "Of course."
The minutes passed with Lita growing more agitated. Over and over she marveled at what she called ancient-looking electrical lines and inadequate roads so close to Colorado Springs. She asked if Tate were taking back roads for Maisy's sake, and he assured her that he was taking the most direct route.
When buildings came into view again, she put her hand to her mouth, her eyes growing wide. She turned to him, clearly panicked. "How far are we from the Broadmoor?"
Tate narrowed his eyes in concern. "The Broadmoor Casino?"
"No, it's a resort. A really famous resort."
He just shook his head. "The only Broadmoor I know is a casino, and no place for a lady."
"Okay, how about…" She squeezed her eyes shut. "What was the name… Antlers! The Antlers Hotel."
Tate nodded and turned Maisy at the next corner. With every street sign, Lalita would cry out, "It can't be. It just can't be."
He wanted to pull her back to himself, but he needed both hands on the reins in city driving. "Lita, what's different than you remember?"
She looked at him, her lip quivering. "Everything. I mean the downtown is the older part, so some of the buildings are the same, but the streets are dirt, there are horses instead of cars and trucks and SUVs and jeeps and motorcycles." She gawked at all the buggies they passed. "And everyone looks just like us."
Tate set his jaw, almost certain that he should just turn around and take her back home with him. I'll find her good doctors. I won't let her be taken away.
He pulled Maisy to the side of the street intending to break the news of his intentions gently, when Lita leaned forward standing right up out of her seat. "Oh my gosh. What's happening?" She looked to Tate, her hand holding on to the side of the buggy top.
Tate reached for the hand near him. "Lita, I was hoping when you saw the town, you'd, well, you'd snap out of your delusions. You seemed to think that Manitou was somehow behind the rest of the world. I brought you here today to show you that it's not."
Tate had stopped the buggy within view of the Antlers Hotel, and while it was an imposing structure, it didn't compare to the high rise Antlers Hilton Hotel Lalita had driven past with Nonnie a week earlier.
She sat down hard, her mind whirring with the possibilities even as Tate droned on without her hearing a word. Suddenly, she felt the need to get out and walk. She jumped out of the buggy with Tate yelling after her. Walking briskly toward the hotel, she waited only a moment at the busy corner of Pikes Peak Avenue before walking right out into the middle of the extra wide street.
She looked toward the ancient, yet nearly new building. Buggies were passing her from both directions as her gaze lifted to the mighty mountain above that wore only the tiniest scrap of snow at this time of year. Without warning, a flash of light seared her memory, and she cried out, crumpling to the hard packed dirt.
Chapter 16
"Lita! Wake up, sweetheart."
Tate had been just a few feet away from Lita in the middle of Pikes Peak Avenue when she cried out and collapsed. He had carried her quickly back to his buggy and set her beside him on the seat, her head lolling with unconsciousness. He feared the worst—that he had pushed her too far into accepting something she couldn't, and her mind had opted for oblivion rather than facing the truth.
Reaching under the seat for the medical bag he never went anywhere without, he dug through it one-handed until he found the smelling salts. Waving the small bottle under her nose, he prayed for her consciousness to return, as well as her sanity. Heavenly Father, please undo any damage I've done by bringing her here.
Without warning, Lita's eyes popped open, and she pushed the strong-smelling ammonia away from her nose. She blinked, and Tate held his breath.
She sat up straight and looked around. "What are you doing, Tate? Why were you trying to pour that horrible stuff up my nose?"
Tate smiled and let out a heavy breath, recapping the bottle. "I wasn't trying to pour it up your nose. You fainted. It helped to revive you."
She ran a hand through her hair, looking to the spot in the street where she collapsed, then turning to look at the hotel. He watched her eyes track upward to the mountains. "Wow," she breathed out.
He took her hand with both of his. "Lita, tell me what you're thinking."
Her gaze connected with his, but he couldn't read her emotions. She seemed in shock. Finally she licked her lips and words came out in a rush. "Tate, I know what happened up on Pikes Peak."
His chin ticked up in surprise. Why she had been on Pikes Peak and what happened there was the furthest thing from his thoughts. "What happened?"
"Nonnie and I went up on the cog rail, but it was really stormy at the top and cold. That's why I bought the long johns."
He caressed her hand with his thumbs. "Yes, you said that the other night. Is there something more?"
She nodded and seemed reticent to speak. He waited. Her lip quivered, and Tate began to fear that she had been attacked—perhaps even violated—while on the mountain. He brought a hand to her cheek. "It's all right. You can tell me. Whatever happened, I'll help you through it."
She bit her lip a moment longer before speaking. "I'm afraid you won't believe me." She choked on a sob. "I'm not sure I believe it myself."
Wrapping her in his arms, he pulled her head next to his, feeling even more certain that a horrific attack on her person was responsible for her spotty memory. She had blocked out the terror. He turned his lips to her ear. "Sh, I think I understand. You don't need to speak of it if you don't want to."
She clung to him a moment longer, then slowly pushed away. "I don't know what you think happened, but I… I was struck by lightning."
Tate's brows flew up. "Lightning! Lita, if you were struck by lightning, you would have had far worse things to deal with than just memory loss."
"Well, I probably wasn't struck directly, but close enough to cause unconsciousness."
Tate squinted in thought. "I suppose that could be possible. You actually remember the lightning flash?"
"Yes. I was taking pictures of the v
iew—"
"You had a camera up on top." Tate feared they were heading down the same confusing road.
"Well, I was taking pictures on my phone. Almost nobody carries a camera around anymore." She stopped, taking in a small breath. "Oh boy, no wonder you have given me that stare for days. Most of the time, you've had no idea what I've been talking about, have you?"
He nodded. "I did mention that you were a cypher."
Lalita looked deep into Tate's worried eyes. What if I can't make him believe me?
She'd seen his eyes filled with professional concern, but today they held something more—genuine caring. She knew that no matter the consequences, she had to tell him the truth.
She took hold of both of his hands. "Tate, I know this is going to sound impossible, but I simply have no other explanation." She took a deep breath and let it out. "When Nonnie and I went up Pikes Peak, it was the 21st century. 2015, to be exact."
Tate blinked, and Lalita rushed on. "The bolt of lightning that knocked me out also knocked me back. In time, that is." She got to experience the Tate stare one more time. "That explains why Nonnie has never tried to find me. She's still there in 2015."
Tate didn't say anything, and Lalita felt tears forming. She gave his hands a squeeze. "Please, Tate. Please say that you believe me. I lost my phone, so I can't give you any proof."
Finally he seemed to shake himself out of his catatonic state. "You're probably hungry. I believe they serve meals at the Antlers Hotel." With that, he jumped down and untied the reins from the hitching post. Climbing back up, he gave the reins a snap. "We'll just put Maisy in the livery while we eat to give her a chance to rest." He looked over at her, smiling, but Lalita's heart felt like a stone.
***
Tate watched Lita pick at her mashed potatoes and gravy with her fork. She'd barely eaten three bites and hadn't even touched her roasted chicken. He guessed that he was probably responsible for her lack of appetite, but he'd been unable to give her what she wanted—acceptance of her next wild fantasy.
"So you don't want to even look for Nonnie's house?"
She shook her head and laid down her fork. "There's no point. It's like the phone operator tried to tell me, Nonnie's not there. Her street doesn't exist."
"You're coming back with me then."
She looked into his eyes, her own glistening. "What choice do I have? I have nothing. No money, no clothes other than what I'm wearing. You're the only friend I have in the whole wide world, Tate Cavanaugh."
His heart broke at the pain in her voice, yet he couldn't be sad that she was coming home with him. He would do all in his power to help her come to her senses.
He reached across the table to cover her hand with his, pushing his own feelings aside. "And I'm honored to be so." Love and marriage had been taken off the table, but he would not abandon her. He sat back, looking again at her uneaten meal. "Now, be a good girl and eat something. It's a long drive back. I don't need you fainting for lack of food. Please, eat."
She took another bite before setting her fork down. "I'm just not hungry."
"Well, you know Mrs. K., as you call her, won't indulge you with a crumb before the proper time."
She lifted the napkin from her lap and laid it beside her plate. "That's fine."
Tate couldn't stand to see her so… so blank. He set his fork down. "Lalita, I know I'm the cause of your sadness, but I can't tell you that I believe something when I don't. If I did that, you would never know if what I'm saying is truth or a falsehood."
Lita picked up her cup of tea. "Ironically, that's the very reason I told you." After a sip, she set the cup back on the saucer. "I pondered just keeping the revelation to myself."
Tate didn't know what else to say. He reached for his hat sitting on the chair next to him. "Well, if you're truly finished with your meal, we should start back."
She pushed away from the table and rose, not waiting for his assistance. Tate ground his teeth, his old self fighting with the resolution he'd made after Augusta's death. He kept his jaw shut tight as he followed her through the restaurant. Finally, his upbringing forced its way out of his mouth. "Miss Torres, a lady waits for her gentleman to assist with her chair and offer his arm."
She looked up at him with watery eyes. "Are you my gentleman, Dr. Cavanaugh?"
He was silent as they walked through the lobby, composing his thoughts, but at her exasperated expression outside, he strove to put them into words. "Miss Torres—"
Taking her arm, he strove to pull her toward the livery and away from gawkers. She pulled free and sped ahead.
Tate strode with purpose after her but did not run. Thankfully, he found her sitting in their buggy. After paying the livery hand for Maisy's care, he jumped up beside her, and she scooted to the far end of the bench. Gathering the reins, he sighed and moved the buggy out onto the thoroughfare. Expecting a long, silent ride home, he was surprised when she suddenly turned to him and spoke. "Can we go to the Garden of the Gods?"
Tate thought a moment. "It will add an hour or more onto our trip home to drive up there."
She reached out a hand to his arm. "Do you have to get back? I'd really appreciate it if you would take me there."
Tate did want to get back. The trip so far had not been what he'd hoped, but he found he couldn't say no. "If you can stand my company for that long, I'll be glad to take you. It's been a long while since I've been there myself."
"Thank you." She removed her hand to her lap, and Tate wished for it back. He knew he'd hurt her, but if she was still to be his patient, he couldn't let his feelings rule. He couldn't do that to Nellie. One unbalanced mother in a lifetime is enough.
***
Lalita saw the red rocks jutting up out of the earth long before they got to the famous garden. This time there was no vehicle-filled parking lot with tourists descending on the trails like a plague of locusts. There were no paved walkways, no split rail fences, no visitor's center with a gift shop and 3D movie about the history of the park. There were only one or two other buggies driving the dirt roads between the massive natural rock sculptures.
It was so quiet, you could hear the birds— a number of different calls that she had never taken the time to identify with its owner. She squinted at the passing brush, but most of the time she couldn't land her eye on the bird responsible.
The sky behind the wondrous rock formations was bright blue with a few wispy clouds slowly changing and reshaping with the gentle breeze. It was so peaceful, Lita almost cried.
"The kissing camels, praying hands, and balanced rock are still here in a hundred years, Doc, and while it's still beautiful, in a way, it's been defiled. In becoming a tourist attraction, I doubt it's a place for 'gods' anymore. The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit probably moved on to a more tranquil setting long before the 21st century." She turned to her confused doctor and smiled, a tear running down her face. "But today, they're here." She shut her eyes and leaned her head back. "Close your eyes and breathe them in, Doc. They're here."
***
It was a quiet ride back to Manitou. Lalita had much to process. If the realization that she might be stuck more than a hundred years in the past wasn't enough, she was slowly beginning to feel the loss of those she loved. And while she didn't always get along with her family, she still loved them. Why didn't I just call them? Why did I have to prove something?
If she lived to be an old woman, she might be alive when her parents and adoptive parents were born. She'd never see Nonnie again or any of her friends back in Missouri. It was as if they'd all died in some horrible catastrophe, and she was the only survivor. Knowing that they were still living out their lives without her was only a small comfort in the midst of the grief sweeping over her.
As the tears fell, Tate patted her arm or han
d, but he didn't offer to hold her again—didn't let his fingers slide through her hair—didn't kiss the top of her head. He'd pulled away, leaving her feeling completely alone.
When they were approaching Manitou, the dam of her emotions broke utterly, and she began to weep openly, unable to stop. Tate pulled over but still didn't reach for her. "Do you want to talk about what's troubling you?"
She shook her head. "Why?" she hiccuped "You won't believe me anyway."
"It doesn't matter what I believe. I want to help you."
Lalita couldn't fathom how obtuse men could be. "Seriously?" She could feel herself heating up from more than the mid-afternoon summer sun. "You don't have a clue why I might be upset?"
He shifted the reins in his hands. "I'm sorry. I know I've hurt you. I—"
She gave a high, little laugh. "Oh my, Doc, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but not everything is about you." She bit her lip, fighting for control. "I've lost everything—everybody I knew. Everybody I loved. All my education was for nothing. In this time, women can't even vote. I'm a liberated fish out of water, and I'm so hot right now, I want to tear this ridiculous dress off my body and jump in the creek."
For the second time in one day, Tate found himself watching as Lita jumped from the buggy unexpectedly. Surely she wouldn't. He quickly wound the reins around the arm rail and jumped to the ground, following her briskly down the creek bank to the water's edge.
He was glad to see that she was not undressing but had dipped his handkerchief in the stream and was wiping her face and neck. He moved beside her, sliding his hands into his trouser pockets lest he be tempted to take her in his arms. "I'm sorry to have been so insensitive to your feelings. We can send a letter to your family in Missouri, and perhaps they will want to make the journey out to get you."