My Heart Will Find Yours Read online

  “Is that so?”

  “Uh, yes. I wondered if I might visit with you and ask you some questions about Royce and Jason Dyson.” Her heart beat so hard she feared he could hear it through the receiver.

  “Why, I’d be pleased to talk to you. When can you come?”

  “Would this afternoon be all right?”

  The drive to Kerrville sped by pleasantly and took her just under an hour. She followed the winding drive to the midsized ranch-style, brick home sitting on several acres of rough hill country land. The yard was nicely landscaped with beds of cactus, rocks, and the occasional steer head skeleton. When she pulled to a stop, a man in his fifties came out to greet her.

  He was tall and well built. His smile displayed a dimple like the one in Royce’s cheek. “Hello, Miss Keith, I’m Alex Dyson, Dad’s oldest son. Pop’s waiting for you in the sunroom. He’s been chomping at the bit all morning afraid you’d changed your mind.”

  She shook his hand and laughed. “Oh, I’d never do that. I’m anxious to speak with him.” Her expression sobered. “I know he’s not well, so I’ll try not to tire him.”

  “Don’t you worry about that now. He’s been down lately and having a chance to talk about the family history is just what he needs to perk him up.”

  Before they reached the room at the back of the house, a loud voice hollered. “Is that her, Son?”

  Alex grinned. “Sure is, Pop, and she’s a pretty little lady too.”

  They entered the room and Texanna’s eyes lit on the older man leaning back in his recliner. He held out a hand to her, and she strode across the room to take it in a firm grasp. “Why she is at that, Son.” He motioned to the chair beside him. “Have a seat here by me.”

  “Would you like some coffee, Miss Keith?” Alex waved his hand. “I know you do, Pop.”

  “I’d love a cup, and please, call me Texanna.”

  He nodded and left the room. “Now, young lady, what exactly would you like to know about the Dyson family?” He picked up a small pile of old books and papers from the end table. Tremors shook his hand as he lowered them into his lap. “Whatever you need to know, I’ve got the answers right here.”

  “Uh, I guess I’d like to know about your grandfather Jason’s life, what it was like after his brother died.”

  The older man scratched his chin. “Don’t suppose you could tell me why you’re interested, now could you?”

  “I’d rather not because you probably wouldn’t believe me. It’s a really weird story.”

  Alex brought their coffee and left them to talk. Mr. Dyson blew on his coffee to cool it before taking a healthy swig. “Well, I truly love stories, the weirder the better.”

  She couldn’t think of a reason why she shouldn’t tell him everything. After all, the worst that could happen is he’d believe she was crazy. “A friend of mine, an elderly woman named Pearlina Baines married Marshal Royce Dyson in 1872. In 1876 she boarded a train for San Antonio and…”

  Mr. Dyson didn’t interrupt. His keen blue eyes watched her with interest and curiosity. As he listened, he’d nod his head from time to time. When she finished, she waited for him to make a derogatory remark, but he didn’t. He settled back in his chair and studied her for a minute. “During my early years, after great-granddaddy Dyson retired, I used to sit at his knee and listen to stories. There was one in particular I begged to hear time and again. It was about a crazy redheaded woman named Texanna.”

  She held her breath as he continued. “Seems she told a wild story about time-travel. Of course no one believed her, but before he died in 1940, Pappy Dyson decided the woman might have been telling the truth.”

  He opened a diary and pointed to a specific entry. Texanna took the journal from him and read. The words were faint from age, but she had no trouble deciphering them.

  August 9, 1880

  Today we laid Royce to rest. My heart is heavy with grief and remorse at sending Texanna away. If only I’d listened to Texanna, Royce would be here today and Garrett wouldn’t be without a father. God forgive me for I’ll never forgive myself. Nor did Royce.

  Texanna looked at the front of the journal. It belonged to Jason Dyson.

  Voice gravelly, he asked, “Is that what you needed to know?”

  Blinking back a tear, she nodded and passed the open book back to him.

  “Great-granddaddy never got over his brother’s death. A week before, his oldest brother Matthew’s wife delivered twins. The baby girl was healthy, but the boy never took a breath. Lots of babies died back in them days. Doctors didn’t know near what they do today.” He closed the journal and lovingly ran his hand over the cover. “Then when the boy Garrett died, he took his death to heart as well. Jason Dyson was a fine man, a good lawman, too. Unfortunately, he carried that guilt all his life, put a damper on his happiness.”

  “That’d be a hard load to bear. How old was your great-granddaddy when he died?”

  “Eighty-two, died just one year after his wife Sally passed on.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Dyson for sharing this with me.” She stood to shake his hand.

  He reached for both of hers. His large hands swallowed hers as he squeezed gently. “You’re welcome. I enjoyed our visit.” His blue eyes bored into hers—a wealth of knowledge radiated from them. “God keep you and bless you.” He winked. “Safe journey, Texanna.”

  ****

  It was clear what she must do. The robbery wouldn’t occur for just over a month, but she feared if she didn’t go now, something might prevent her from going back. She needed to be there to make sure Royce lived.

  Texanna called her father to let him know she’d be vacationing and be gone probably a month. Pauline dropped her at the depot, and carpetbag in hand, she boarded the train for Waco. Just before the train reached Austin, she went into the restroom, sat down on the toilet seat, and leaned back with her tennis shoes braced against the adjacent wall. She focused her mind on June 29, 1880 and clutched the turquoise locket. Though expecting it, the jolt still rattled her bones and her head bounced off the back wall.

  She changed clothes before leaving the lavatory. Dressed in her gray serge Victorian dress and the ratty straw bonnet, she rejoined the other passengers. Hands trembling slightly, she folded them in her lap and concentrated on stilling her galloping heart.

  When the train slowed and pulled into the station, she waited until everyone else disembarked before getting up. The streets and sights were the same as she remembered them. Taking a deep breath, straightening her shoulders, she struck out across the street toward the marshal’s office. Men tipped their hats, ladies smiled and nodded, but no one spoke and called her Pearl. But some looked curiously at her, and she saw heads together whispering. A few people fell in behind her.

  Jason sat at the desk in the jail’s outer office. His brow wrinkled as he squinted trying to read the words on a small poster. She cleared her throat, and he looked up. His mouth fell open in shock. It quickly turned to anger and settled on resignation. His face was blue from fading bruises, and one eye was purple.

  “What happened to you?”

  He stood up and came around the desk. “My brother wasn’t particularly happy I let his prisoner get away. Didn’t take kindly to having his brother betray him and not follow orders.”

  “Why I never…” She was too shocked to say more.

  Ignoring her search for words, he took her arm and led her toward Royce’s office. Jason knocked once, opened the door, shoved her inside, and quickly closed it behind her.

  “What is it, Jason?” When Royce didn’t receive an answer, he looked up and saw Texanna. His eyes widened in surprise, and then he grinned. “Well, well, what have we here? My errant wife has returned once again.” He stood up and walked around the desk.

  “Your wife my ass.”

  Chapter Five

  Texanna dropped the carpetbag and plopped her hands on her hips, her face red with anger. Her breasts heaved with righteous indignation. Lordy, she was pretty
with her dander up.

  “What do you mean by hitting that boy out there? The only reason he let me go was to keep you from getting hurt. He tried to help you—the big brother he dearly loves.”

  “That boy is a deputy of the state of Texas and paid to do what I tell him to do. He’s lucky I didn’t fire him for helping you. May yet.”

  She snorted. “That’d be a shame. He’s going to be a good lawman, almost as good as you. I—”

  “I don’t want to hear it.” That’s all he needed—another cock and bull story that didn’t make a lick of sense. He walked around the desk and stood in front of her. His closeness unnerved her, and she moved back a step. The knowledge pleased him. “What prompted you to come back?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, so I’ll just keep my reasons to myself.”

  He couldn’t hold back a grin. “Ahh, you’re anxious to resume our marriage. Missed my loving, huh?” The expression on her face was priceless.

  “Why you puffed up buffoon.” She poked him in the chest emphasizing each word. “It’ll be a cold day in hell when I enjoy your loving.” He’d maneuvered her back against the wall. She shoved at him. “I’m here to save your life, and that’s all, so keep your hands to yourself.”

  Hands to each side of her head, he looked down at her pink lips. They called to him, and he wanted to bend down and taste them. He cleared his throat and pulled back. “Since you’re not my wife, just where do you plan to live while you’re doing this life saving? Who’s going to pay the bills?”

  Texanna couldn’t think with him so close. The heat from his body, along with his bay rum aftershave settled over her making her woozy. His nearness was just a little too tempting.

  The gleam of amusement in his eyes doused her desire. Smiling sweetly, she said. “I’ll get a job doing something. If the bank will give me a loan, I’ll paint portraits.”

  His eyes lost their humor. He stepped back. “You paint?”

  “Yes, I’m relatively well-known for my portraits in San Antonio. As a matter of fact, I’m acquiring clients all over the state now, some in other states. My latest portrait commission paid five thousand dollars.”

  His snort of derision said he didn’t believe her.

  “Buy me some paints, and I’ll prove it.”

  “Why didn’t you bring money or supplies with you?”

  “You know why. I couldn’t bring money from the future back here. People would think it was counterfeit. They’d think I was crazy or have me arrested.”

  He shook his head. “You are crazy woman, or you’re up to something. Until I find out why you’re here, where you got Pearl’s things, and what you’re up to, you’ll be staying at my house as my wife.”

  “I’ll do no such thing.”

  “It’s either with me or here in a jail cell.”

  What had she been thinking coming here without a way to support herself? She could have scoured the antique stores, located some old money, and stayed in a boarding house. Shoot, Royce probably would’ve arrested her anyway.

  “I’m not sleeping with you, Mr. Dyson. If I come, it’ll be an ‘in-name only’ situation.”

  “Suit yourself.” He looked her up and down. “I’m glad to see you’re suitably dressed today. The marshal has an image to keep up, you know.”

  The man was baiting her. She smirked at him. “As long as I’m here, I’ll be a model housewife and not embarrass you. But I’m here to tell you, I don’t know how to cook.”

  “We’ll see about that.” He grabbed his shotgun and hat, and taking her arm, escorted her out of his office. Jason sat at the desk, a look of resolve on his face. “I’m taking Texanna home. Send someone for me if there’s trouble.”

  “Will do, Royce.”

  Outside, the street was full of curious people. Royce ignored them as he stowed his shotgun and tied her carpetbag onto the saddle. He lifted her onto Samson and mounted behind her. Before they rode off, he turned her face around to meet his and kissed her. A roar of approval vibrated around them. When she caught her breath, she hissed, “What was that for?”

  “Why darlin’, I’m letting the town know my wife has returned.”

  ****

  From inside Millie’s Hat Boutique, a pair of hazel eyes narrowed as they focused on the doings in front of the marshal’s office. As Marshal Dyson and the woman rode off, Danielle bit back her tears and looked down at the hat hanging limply in her hands. She’d have to buy the damn thing now. It was twisted beyond recognition.

  “Millie, put this on my tab, please. I’m in a big hurry so no need to bother wrapping it up.” She headed for the door.

  Millie seemed shocked at her rushed purchase—in truth she usually tried on every hat in the place, but now she just wanted to leave. The shopkeeper grabbed the finest hatbox in the store, and asked, “Are you sure? It won’t take a minute.”

  “I’m sure.” And she was out the door, the bell ringing at the vibration of the slam.

  Danielle passed the storefront and tossed the hat into the nearest garbage barrel. How dare that man come calling on her, invite her to the July Fourth dance, and then pick right back up with that woman the minute she comes back in town. Her face burned with mortification. She’d already told her friends she had a date with Royce. Being dumped by him for that redhead the first time was bad enough. How would she get past being humiliated again?

  ****

  They rode along in silence. Texanna tried to sit up straight and not lean against his broad chest, but finally gave up and relaxed. One of his arms circled her waist while the other held the reins. If the close contact bothered him, he didn’t let on.

  From the road she could see the Brazos River winding along through the trees. As the road neared the river, large sandstone rocks bordered it to keep wheels or horses from getting too close. She peeked over the edge to see boulders, dirt, and scrub brush blanketed the descent all the way to the water.

  A small white farmhouse sat back from the west side of the road. “Who lives there?”

  “Agnes Farley. Most folks call her Aggie. She’s a widow lady and takes care of Garrett when I’m working. He’ll spend the night there tonight, so you’ll meet him tomorrow or the next day.”

  A short distance down the road, he turned down a lane that led to another white farmhouse. It loomed larger, with two stories and clapboard siding. Twin rocking chairs sat on a porch running the width of the house. Lilac bushes grew at each corner of the porch and several old oaks shaded the front and back yards. It was a picturesque view. Texanna could see Pearl living here.

  “This is nice. Bet Pearl used to have lots of flowers in that front bed.”

  He didn’t comment, but dismounted and lifted her down. “Go inside. I’ll put Samson away for the night.”

  Inside, Texanna walked into the wide center hall with transoms above the doors at each end. She stepped into the parlor. The furniture was sparse and plain but pillows and crocheted doilies brightened the room. She fingered a delicate scarf and imagined Pearl sitting in one of the chairs crocheting by lamplight. She stepped across the hall into the dining room. It held a beautiful oak table with six chairs and an open hutch. She examined the china lined up across the shelf. Pearlina’s dishes were delicate, painted in pastels, and dust free. Someone had been cleaning for Royce.

  Royce watched Texanna run her finger over the waxed wood and trace the pattern of the china. Her look was one of reverence, and her awe further confused him. He cleared his throat, and she turned and smiled. A tear sparkled in her eyes. “I just couldn’t resist exploring.”

  He nodded. “Come on into the kitchen, and let’s find something to eat.” She followed him, her carpetbag still clutched in her hand. He took it from her and sat it on the end of the table. “We’ve got some leftover ham and fresh bread. How about a sandwich?”

  “Sounds good.” When he offered her a glass of milk, her lip curled, and she shook her head. “I’d prefer water.”

  They ate in sile
nce. Royce watched her as she inspected the room and the items in it as if she’d never seen them.

  “Where’ve you been since you left here?”

  “Why, back in 2008 San Antonio, of course.”

  ****

  The long skirt twisted around her legs threatening to trip her as she walked down the stairs. She kicked it aside and kept moving. Men’s voices echoed from the kitchen. The deep rumble of Royce’s voice made her stomach jump into her throat.

  “I don’t know what to think, Matthew. She still claims to have time-traveled from 2008.”

  “Do you think she’s your wife? Is it possible she’s lost her memory?”

  “Hell, I don’t know what to think. But, last night she told me she’s a portrait artist. Made five thousand dollars on the last one she did.”

  One of them whistled, probably Matthew, whoever that was. Ah! Probably the older brother.

  “That’s a lot of money. She must be mighty good. Just one more thing she has in common with the Pearl we knew and loved.”

  She walked through the open kitchen door. Both men rose to their feet.

  That the two men were related was immediately evident but Matthew was a big man, several inches taller than Royce and more muscular. His biceps were as big around as the trunk of the tree in the front yard. Texanna mentally compared them. Both were handsome, but where Royce’s dark hair fell to his collar, Matthew’s was longer and tied back with rawhide. Royce was clean-shaven, but his brother had a beard and mustache.

  Royce asked. “Find everything you needed upstairs?” He looked at her tennis shoes but didn’t comment.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Royce nodded and held a chair for her. “Sit down and let us wait on you this morning.”

  Texanna eased into the chair, warily watching both men as they moved around the kitchen.

  Royce stood by her shoulder. “Coffee?”

  “Please.”

  He poured them each a cup while Matthew fetched the cream and sugar. Royce placed the pot on the stove and returned with a platter of scrambled eggs and ham. Matthew gingerly grabbed hot biscuits off a pan and piled them onto a plate.