"Well, if you can choose who you're visible to," Tess said, "make sure it's just me who can see you. I don't want anyone to come looking for me and see me talking to you two. They'll think I'm crazy."

  Angela nodded and waved her hand. "Now," she said, "we'll answer some of your questions, Tess. But please remember that there may be some things we can't discuss with you—things we might not know."

  "That's ridiculous," she said. "You're angels. You're supposed to know everything."

  "Sorry," Michael said. "Only Mr. G knows everything. Angels aren't allowed to know things like the future, any more than you are."

  "Who's Mr. G?" Tess asked.

  Michael rolled his eyes skyward, and Tess uttered a short exclamation of understanding. Then she said, "But, anyway, it's not the future. It's 1893. It's the past."

  "Sure, it is," Michael replied, "but it's also your future. Don't you see? You're still living your life, even though you're in the past, so your future's still ahead of you."

  "That doesn't make a darned bit of sense!"

  "Sure it does." Michael sat down and crossed his legs. "Now listen: You had a future in 1994, and you still have a future in 1893. See?"

  She remained silent for a moment before she nodded her head. "As convoluted as your reasoning is, Michael, I understand now." She glanced at the boulder beside her. "Say, you two wouldn't be able to do me a big favor, would you?"

  "We can't take the computer back for you, Tess," Michael said.

  "Shoot," she grumbled. "And you can read my mind, too."

  "Yep," he admitted.

  "Well, why can't you take it back for me?"

  "That would be considered meddling in human affairs," Michael explained. Angela looked down at him and opened her mouth to speak, but Michael nudged her in the leg with his elbow. "It would be, Angie. Tess's ex-boyfriend will just have to live with the consequences of his actions."

  "Michael doesn't care much for your former fiancé," Angela explained. "We're really not supposed to judge people, but sometimes it's hard."

  "After knowing Stone, I can't imagine what I ever saw in Robert either," Tess murmured. She held out the computer case and stared at it. "I guess it's completely up to me."

  Stone rode into the ranch yard, tired after his long day in the saddle, but eagerly gazing around for Tess. He noticed Flower on the back porch in one of the rocking chairs. He seldom saw his daughter idle, but now she sat gazing toward the hillside, where he'd first found Tess.

  Tess. Every time he even thought her name, it brought him a warm glow—at the ranch, anyway. At times, riding the range alone when Rain was spending time with his grandfather, those crazy doubts surfaced.

  What did he really have to offer her? Shoot, that ring she'd sold in town had brought her a thousand dollars. It would be years before the ranch showed that much profit on a steady basis. Yet he believed her when she said she loved him—knew in his heart the wild passion they shared wasn't faked on her part. Sometimes he saw a frustrated look on her face, though. He'd think she was going to talk to him about whatever was bothering her, but something always intruded. At times one of the kids needed her—other times he had to attend to his stock.

  The worst times were when she mentioned some work-saving device it would be nice to have on the ranch. That man in her past—or her future, whatever the heck it was—probably would've instantly complied with any request she made—dug in his pocket and pulled out a handful of money—told her to buy whatever her little heart desired.

  Rain and Silver Eagle emerged from the barn. At first, they didn't notice Stone sitting there on his gelding. They both glanced up at the hillside, and Stone followed their gaze.

  That was Tess's mare up there! And Tess. Even from this distance he recognized her slim figure.

  "What's she doing up there?" he snarled at Silver Eagle.

  The shaman deliberately avoided Stone's eyes and turned his back. Stone knew immediately that the Indian's actions indicated that he didn't wish to talk—perhaps feeling he might have to lie. He'd seen other Indians use the same tactic at times. His heart began to hammer in his chest, and he glared at Rain.

  "Do you know why she's up there, Rain?"

  "Pa, please..."

  "Answer me!" he demanded.

  Flower flew from the porch and ran toward his horse. "Pa!" she called. "Tess took something from her backpack with her. I don't know what it was, but I saw it in her pack the day she was taking our pictures. She had it in her hand when she went out to saddle Sateen. I'm worried, Pa. Rain and Grandfather were up there, but they left Tess alone. And that's where she came to be with us—and where she could go away from us."

  "She told us to leave," Rain said. "She wanted to talk to them alone."

  "Who?" Stone asked.

  His son dropped his head, and Silver Eagle laid a hand on Rain's shoulder. "You must ask Tess, not us," he said. "It is not for us to say."

  He glared at them for a second, then dug his heels into his gelding's sides and slapped his reins against the horse's rump. The gelding leapt into an almost immediate gallop. Usually he didn't abuse his horses, but his frantically beating heart overruled his senses. He slapped the reins once on the other side of the gelding, then leaned down on its neck, yelling at it for more speed.

  He reached the hillside in record time and urged the horse up the steep slope. Rocks clattered beneath the horse's hooves as it surged up the hill, falling over the side of the trail. He never let up on bellowing at the horse for even more speed, despite the danger to both him and his mount. One slip would mean they both would plunge off the trail to their possible deaths.

  As skilled a rider as he was, twice he almost lost his seat when the gelding negotiated an extremely narrow portion of the trail. But at last the horse rounded the bend, and Stone pulled it to a plunging halt at the place where he'd seen Tess a few minutes earlier.

  Sateen threw up her head, neighing in fright. Stone ignored her.

  "Tess!" he shouted. "Tess, where are you? Answer me, Tess!"

  Sateen nickered at him again, but otherwise only silence met his ears.

  "Tess!" he yelled again as he jumped from the saddle.

  Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to look at the ground. He saw the tracks of several horses, intermingled with both small and larger moccasin prints, which obviously belonged to Rain and Silver Eagle. Disregarding those, he found Tess's footprints—the distinctive waffle pattern of those shoes she called Reeboks.

  Dropping his horse's reins, he studied the footprints. She'd stood in one place for a while, then walked toward the big boulder beside the trail. He followed the footprints around the boulder. On the other side the footprints continued, and he walked onward. Suddenly the ground disappeared in front of him and he froze.

  A black abyss split the hillside. Instantly he understood it was the time warp. Her footprints ended there.

  Hoping against hope, he bent down and picked up a small rock. He tossed it into the abyss and listened for several long moments but never heard the rock hit bottom.

  "Tess?" he whispered in a tortured voice. "Tess?" louder.

  "Tess!" he shouted. "Oh, God, Tess, come back. I love you!"

  A sob broke from his chest. She couldn't be gone. His stomach heaved and his shoulders shook. He couldn't make it without her.

  But she wasn't there. She'd disappeared, just as Rain had said she'd appeared on the hillside. And she'd gone willingly. He saw no signs of shuffling in her footsteps—no drag marks indicating someone had forced her. She'd gone back to that damned bastard with all the money.

  Stabs of agony tore through his chest, and he doubled his arms across his stomach. His head bowed and he sank to the ground.

  If only he could talk to her one more time. She could use every penny of her money to buy whatever she needed to lighten her workload at the ranch. He'd work his fingers to the bone to give her anything she wanted.

  He stared again at the abyss. It stretched endlessly—but it did end somewhere. He knew exactly where—it ended at the point of Tess's former life.

  He could follow her, but what would he find on the other side? She might laugh in his face. Or, knowing Tess, she would probably try to explain in that voice that would haunt him for the rest of his life why she had left. And Flower and Rain needed him. They'd be devastated when they realized Tess was gone for good.

  He swiped at his cheek, then stared down in surprise at the moisture on the back of his hand. A small whimper left his throat—then a larger one. He choked until he almost strangled, but at last the sobs of agony broke free.

  A long ten minutes later, he forced himself to his feet. Still half-blinded by tears, he stumbled around the boulder and grabbed Sateen's reins before he staggered toward his horse. His children had to be told. He laid his head against the gelding's neck. How could he tell them?

  Thirty-Eight

  Tess yawned and opened her eyes. What was she doing sleeping on the ground? Had she and Stone just made love?

  Suddenly she sat up, staring around her. She was on a ledge, and beyond her stretched mountains she recognized. A cool breeze caressed her cheeks, and a falcon floated on a wind draft nearby, its wing tips adjusting to spiral in a wide sweep.

  "Oh," she whispered, recalling she'd stepped into the time warp. "I'm back on Saddleback Mountain." Her eyes quickly found the computer nearby, and she reached for it.

  "Okay," she murmured. "Now what?"

  She stood up. The ledge was wide enough to hold her safely, but there was no way she could climb back up to the trail on her own. A rock cliff extended above her, its face offering not even a hint of a handhold. All right. She had guardian angels, didn't she?

  "Michael! Angela!" she called. "I need you!"

  "Miss Foster?"

  She looked above her to see a male face peering down at her. "Are you Tess?"

  "Yes," she answered. "Help me up. Please."

  "Sure."

  The man disappeared for a second, then reappeared, tossing down a rope to her. She stuck the handle of the computer case between her teeth and clamped down. Seizing the rope, she pulled herself upward, hand over hand. As she neared the top of her climb, the man holding the other end of the rope dropped it and grabbed her beneath her arms, heaving her onto the trail. Now that she could see the rest of him, Tess realized he wore the uniform of a park ranger.

  "I'm Dane, and this is Phil. We've been looking for you all day, Miss Foster," the ranger said. "Freddy reported that you never checked in on Mt. Marcy last night."

  "Today's Sunday?" she asked in astonishment. "August 1? 1994?"

  "Uh... yes. Look, why don't you let us take you down to the first-aid station so they can check you out." Dane glanced toward the other ranger. "If you don't feel like walking, Phil and I can carry you."

  "I don't need any first aid," she said in a determined voice. "Here." She thrust the computer into the ranger's hands. "There's an address inside the case. Please deliver it to them. It's very important."

  "Okay. Fine," Dane said. "But how long have you been down on that ledge? Phil and I've been over this trail twice already today. We didn't notice you down there."

  She smiled mysteriously at him. "You'd never believe me if I told you."

  Dane glanced at her feet. "Miss Foster, you're not allowed on the trails in tennis shoes. You're supposed to be wearing hiking boots. Didn't Freddy tell you that before he let you on the trail?"

  "My boots are in Oklahoma," she answered giddily. "And my name's Mrs. Chisum, not Miss Foster." She waved the hand with Stone's ring under Dane's nose.

  "Uh... right." The ranger reached for her arm. "Let's just go down to the first-aid station and let them know you're all right. There are a bunch of reporters hanging around. They're causing a big stir about us allowing you to hike up here when the trails had been declared unsafe due to the rains."

  She jerked her arm free. "Well, you'll just have to explain to them that I'm okay. I've got to get back to Oklahoma."

  She started to move, but Phil blocked her path to the edge of the trail.

  "Now look here…" she began.

  Phil lunged toward her, and she barely managed to avoid him. She ducked Dane's extended arm and backed toward the other side of the trail. She could only go so far, though. The mountain rose behind her, and she'd have to clamber through the rocks and underbrush to escape.

  "Miss Foster... Chisum," Dane soothed, "you're obviously suffering from exposure. You've spent the night up here in the cold. We'll get you treated."

  "Get the hell away from me," she snarled. She reached down and grabbed a dead limb, backing up against a huge pine.

  "She's out of her mind with shock," Phil said.

  "I am not insane!" she screamed. "And I'm not hurt. You two just go on about your business and forget you've seen me. I'm not going to be here when you get back."

  "Now, Miss Foster," Phil said, "this is our business. We're responsible for finding you."

  She threatened them with the limb as she tried to edge back toward the cliff face. At least she managed to get out onto the trail again, away from the huge pine above her. Now she could see up through the treetops to the sky.

  "Michael! Angela!" she shouted. "Get your butts here to help me!"

  Phil moved, and she shook the limb at him. "I swear, I'll cold cock you with this if you come any closer!" she warned.

  "Miss Foster..."

  "The name's Mrs. Chisum! And I'm going home to my husband! And my kids and my dog and my horse! Michael! Angela!"

  "Go get her," Phil instructed Dane.

  "Me? You're the senior ranger here."

  "Yeah, and you're in training to learn how to do things. Now go get that woman so we can take her down for treatment."

  "Huh-uh. Not me."

  Phil blew out a breath and inched forward. Tess swung the limb as though batting at a ball, then clenched it in front of her.

  "Michael! Angela!" She threw her head back, her lungs straining as she took a deep breath to yell again.

  The cloud materialized above her, and she glared at the two angels. "Get me out of here!"

  "You have to decide to do it, Tess," Michael said. "We can't help you."

  "Then keep them away from me!" she demanded.

  Phil lunged for her again. His feet flew out from beneath him, and he sat down with a thud. Dane stared in surprise at the banana peel on the trail.

  Taking advantage of the opportunity, Tess dropped the limb and ran. Without a pause, she leaped off the side of the mountain.

  Stone sat at the kitchen table, staring at Tess's picture. It was a little crumpled by now—and finger-spotted. Still, the picture had caught her very essence—green eyes smiling teasingly at him, and that glorious hair sunlit by the rays from the window.

  His children had finally gone to bed. Rain had tried for hours to reassure Stone that Tess would come back, never once seeming to waver in his belief. Rain had further annoyed Stone with his nonchalance over Tess's disappearance, saying something about Michael and Angela taking care of it. His son even admitted that he wasn't supposed to talk about those two spirits—Michael and Angela, he'd called them again—but Rain felt awful about Stone being so upset.

  "Oh, for the faith of children," Stone whispered, shaking his head. He hadn't bothered to question his son about Michael and Angela. His pain was much too fresh to discuss anything with anyone.

  He almost felt as though Tess had died, and it would take time for him to heal enough to even speak her name again.

  The door opened, and his head jerked around. But it was only Silver Eagle. The shaman crossed to the stove and poured a cup of coffee, then lifted an eyebrow in question as he gestured the pot at Stone.

  "Yeah, go ahead and pour me a cup," he said. "I won't get to sleep tonight anyway."

  Silver Eagle carried over the coffee and filled Stone's cup.

  "Sit down," Stone offered.

  Silver Eagle shook his head and moved back to the stove, where he replaced the coffeepot. "Do you wish to talk?"

  "I don't know." He shifted to straddle the table bench and sipped his coffee. "She lied to me. She'd been letting me believe she'd decided to stay with me. And she broke a promise she once made. She told me that if she ever decided to leave, she wouldn't go without saying goodbye."

  Silver Eagle shrugged. "Maybe it was not the time for goodbye."

  "Look, I've told you before that I want Flower and Rain to keep their Indian beliefs, but I'm sick and tired of your riddles. I've no objection to my son seeking his vision in two years..."

  Stone bit off his words in shock as Tess flew through the doorway, landing with a crash and a flurry of flailing limbs. She screeched and jumped up, rubbing her behind.

  "Thanks a lot for the ride down the hill, Michael!" she yelled. "Next time I'll remember how clumsy you are." Then she flung herself at Stone, kissing him wildly and ignoring the coffee cup, which clattered across the floor, spilling the contents.

  "I'm back! Oh, darling," she murmured between kisses, "I'm back."

  As Silver Eagle slipped through the door, Stone finally managed to stand and grabbed Tess, pushing her away.

  "Where the hell have you been?" he snarled. "Do you have any idea what I've been going through?"

  Tess gaped at him, her mouth falling open in astonishment. "Uh… I had to take it back, Stone. Let me explain...."

  "Yeah," he snapped. "You do that! Explain to me why you just had to go back and see your old lover one more time!"

  "I didn't go back to see him, Stone. I never laid eyes on him, and I had no intention of seeing him. It was something I had to do."

  "And it had nothing to do with him, huh?"

  "Well, sort of. But..."

  He dropped his hands from her and clenched them into fists at his sides. He wanted to strangle her. He wanted to sweep her up and carry her into their bedroom and make wild, passionate love to her, hear the throaty cries of fulfillment he could bring from her.

  "I came back to you, Stone," she whispered. "I really never left—I only went on an errand."

  He grabbed her and pulled her down onto the bench with him, burying his hands in her hair to hold her still. He kissed her, nuzzled her neck, kissed her again. She was real—not a figment of his overheated imagination. She gazed up at him with a hint of tears in her eyes, and he kissed them away before he claimed her mouth again.