“As far out of Wyoming as I can get.”
“But I want to go home.”
“If that yarn you told me is true, and you really are from the future, just how the hell do you plan to get back there?”
“I don’t know.”
Their gazes locked for a moment.
She had beautiful eyes, J.T. thought, clear and gray. Her skin was smooth and kissed by the sun, her lips full and pink. He had a sudden urge to draw her into his arms, to taste her sweetness, to feel her arms around his neck.
J.T. chuckled. She’d be as like to slap him as kiss him, he mused, but then, the prettiest roses always had the sharpest thorns.
Brandy flushed under his probing gaze. She’d been ogled and leered at by the best of them, but there was something about the way J.T. Cutter looked at her that warmed her in the innermost part of her being, that made her toes curl and her stomach flutter. She had dated men who were more handsome, but she had never known one who exuded such sheer masculinity, such blatant virility.
He took her hand in his, the first time his touch had been gentle, not demanding, not angry, and she felt a sudden frisson of heat race up her arm, not as strong as the electrical jolt that had zapped her into the past, but a pleasant tingling warmth that spread through her and settled in her soul.
He felt it, too. She saw it in the sudden widening of his eyes, in the startled expression that crossed his face.
J.T. stared at their hands. His fingers were long and calloused from years of hard-living; hers were small and delicate. Never had he known a woman whose skin was as smooth, as soft.
Puzzled by the intensity of the attraction that hummed between them, he gazed into her eyes.
Never, in all his life, had he felt anything like the quick heat that had infused him when he first took her hand.
The woman was watching him intently, looking every bit as bewildered as he felt.
J.T. dropped her hand and took a step backward, then cleared his throat. “Ready?”
With a nod, Brandy followed him down the street toward the livery barn.
Chapter Five
J.T. shifted in the saddle, his arm settling more firmly around Brandy’s waist. It had been a long time since he’d been this close to a decent woman. Unlike the saloon girls he was accustomed to, who usually smelled of cheap perfume, whiskey, and cigarette smoke, this one smelled clean and fresh, like sunshine and flowers. Her hair was silky when it brushed his cheek. He could feel the warmth of her seeping into his arm where it curved around her waist.
She was too damn close for comfort and he drew back a little. So she was pretty and she smelled good, he thought irritably. In a few days she’d be out of his life and he’d never see her again.
“Tell me more about the future,” he said brusquely, hoping to turn his thoughts from smooth, suntanned skin and silky black hair.
Brandy glanced over her shoulder. “You believe me, then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Everything.”
“Well, I suppose the thing you’d like best would be cars.”
“Cars?”
“Horseless carriages.” Brandy frowned as she gazed into the distance. They had left the town far behind. Ahead stretched a rolling land of gentle hills and valleys and an endless blue sky unbroken by buildings, TV antennas, or power lines. “Have you ever been on a train?”
“Sure.” He’d even robbed a few, but he didn’t tell her that.
“Well, trains in your time…this time…go about twenty-five miles an hour. Now, try to imagine yourself in a motorized vehicle that can go over seventy miles an hour.”
J.T. whistled softly. Seventy miles an hour!
“Airplanes go even faster.
“Airplanes?”
“Ships that fly. Houses are bigger, too. They have electric lights and big glass windows and indoor plumbing. We have clothes made out of material that doesn’t have to be ironed, and telephones…”
Brandy paused. “A telephone is an instrument that makes it possible
“But I want to go home.”
“If that yarn you told me is true, and you really are from the future, just how the hell do you plan to get back there?”
“I don’t know.”
Their gazes locked for a moment.
She had beautiful eyes, J.T. thought, clear and gray. Her skin was smooth and kissed by the sun, her lips full and pink. He had a sudden urge to draw her into his arms, to taste her sweetness, to feel her arms around his neck.
J.T. chuckled. She’d be as like to slap him as kiss him, he mused, but then, the prettiest roses always had the sharpest thorns.
Brandy flushed under his probing gaze. She’d been ogled and leered at by the best of them, but there was something about the way J.T. Cutter looked at her that warmed her in the innermost part of her being, that made her toes curl and her stomach flutter. She had dated men who were more handsome, but she had never known one who exuded such sheer masculinity, such blatant virility.
He took her hand in his, the first time his touch had been gentle, not demanding, not angry, and she felt a sudden frisson of heat race up her arm, not as strong as the electrical jolt that had zapped her into the past, but a pleasant tingling warmth that spread through her and settled in her soul.
He felt it, too. She saw it in the sudden widening of his eyes, in the startled expression that crossed his face.
J.T. stared at their hands. His fingers were long and calloused from years of hard-living; hers were small and delicate. Never had he known a woman whose skin was as smooth, as soft.
Puzzled by the intensity of the attraction that hummed between them, he gazed into her eyes.
Never, in all his life, had he felt anything like the quick heat that had infused him when he first took her hand.
The woman was watching him intently, looking every bit as bewildered as he felt.
J.T. dropped her hand and took a step backward, then cleared his throat. “Ready?”
With a nod, Brandy followed him down the street toward the livery barn.
Chapter Five
J.T. shifted in the saddle, his arm settling more firmly around Brandy’s waist. It had been a long time since he’d been this close to a decent woman. Unlike the saloon girls he was accustomed to, who usually smelled of cheap perfume, whiskey, and cigarette smoke, this one smelled clean and fresh, like sunshine and flowers. Her hair was silky when it brushed his cheek. He could feel the warmth of her seeping into his arm where it curved around her waist.
She was too damn close for comfort and he drew back a little. So she was pretty and she smelled good, he thought irritably. In a few days she’d be out of his life and he’d never see her again.
“Tell me more about the future,” he said brusquely, hoping to turn his thoughts from smooth, suntanned skin and silky black hair.
Brandy glanced over her shoulder. “You believe me, then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything. Everything.”
“Well, I suppose the thing you’d like best would be cars.”
“Cars?”
“Horseless carriages.” Brandy frowned as she gazed into the distance. They had left the town far behind. Ahead stretched a rolling land of gentle hills and valleys and an endless blue sky unbroken by buildings, TV antennas, or power lines. “Have you ever been on a train?”
“Sure.” He’d even robbed a few, but he didn’t tell her that.
“Well, trains in your time…this time…go about twenty-five miles an hour. Now, try to imagine yourself in a motorized vehicle that can go over seventy miles an hour.”
J.T. whistled softly. Seventy miles an hour!
“Airplanes go even faster.
“Airplanes?”
“Ships that fly. Houses are bigger, too. They have electric lights and big glass windows and indoor plumbing. We have clothes made out of material that doesn’t have to be ironed, and telephones…”
Brandy paused. “A telephone is an instrument that makes it possible
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