BILLY THE KID'S WIFE
A Time Travel Romance Short
By R. Barri Flowers
Billy the Kid's Wife is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
BILLY THE KID'S WIFE
Copyright 2013 by R. Barri Flowers
All rights reserved.
Cover Image Copyright Alan Poulson Photography, 2013
Used under license from Shutterstock.com
OTHER BOOKS BY R. BARRI FLOWERS
FICTION
Before He Kills Again (A Veronica Vasquez Thriller)
Dark Streets of Whitechapel (A Jack the Ripper Mystery)
Dead in the Rose City (A Dean Drake Mystery)
Forever Sweethearts (A Love Story)
Justice Served (A Barkley and Parker Mystery)
Killer in The Woods (A Psychological Thriller)
Murder in Honolulu (A Skye Delaney Mystery)
Murder in Maui (A Leila Kahana Mystery)
Persuasive Evidence (A Jordan La Fontaine Legal Thriller)
Seduced to Kill in Kauai (An Exotic Thriller)
State's Evidence (A Beverly Mendoza Legal Thriller)
TEEN FICTION
Christmas Wishes: Laura's Story (A Young Adult Holiday Fantasy)
Count Dracula's Teenage Daughter (A Transylvanica High Novel)
Danger in Time (A Young Adult Time Travel Mystery)
Ghost Girl in Shadow Bay (A Young Adult Haunted House Mystery)
TRUE CRIME
Mass Murder in the Sky: The Bombing of Flight 629 (historical short)
Masters of True Crime
Murder at the Pencil Factory: The Killing of Mary Phagan 100 Years Later (historical short)
Murders in the United States
Serial Killer Couples: Bonded by Sexual Depravity, Abduction, & Murder
The Pickaxe Killers: Karla Faye Tucker & Daniel Garrett (true crime short)
The Sex Slave Murders: The True Story of Serial Killers Gerald & Charlene Gallego
* * *
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Billy the Kid's Wife
Forever Sweethearts - Bonus Excerpt
About the Author
BILLY THE KID'S WIFE
Fort Sumner, New Mexico Territory — July 14, 1881
It was just after midnight when Billy the Kid rode into the dusty fort, some hundred and forty miles west of Lincoln. He had come a long way and he was tired. But he'd gotten word that his friend Pedro Masters was in trouble and needed his help. The one thing he believed in was loyalty. Billy would give the shirt off his back to anyone he knew who needed it.
Maybe this was one of those times.
Tilting his sugar-loaf sombrero hat slightly, Billy cast his wary blue-gray eyes about the surroundings. The onetime military garrison had been converted into living quarters. There was no one on the streets, just a couple of horses, saddled and waiting for their owners to return. All was quiet. Perhaps too quiet.
After spending the better part of his nearly twenty-one years trying to stay out of harm's way, Billy had developed a sixth sense when something was wrong.
It's a trap, he thought and considered hightailing it out of there, knowing that there was a bounty on his head, unjust or not.
Whether it was a desire to make sure his friend was all right, stubbornness, or just plain stupidity, Billy decided not to bolt. It wasn't his nature to leave questions unanswered. No reason to start now.
Billy brought his horse to a halt in front of the Masters' manor, tied it to a post, and headed through the entryway toward the main house. A kerosene lantern offered only a snippet of illumination as he neared the door. Billy's shadow loomed large beyond his imposing figure as it crept up the veranda's wall. Though light on his feet, Billy heard the slatted floor boards beneath him squeak with each step he took.
If this was an ambush, then he had just alerted whoever was in the house of his arrival. Withdrawing the Colt double-action .41 caliber revolver from his holster, Billy cautiously nudged open the door. He stepped into the dark parlor, forcing his eyes to adjust.
Listening for any threatening sounds, he began to work his way through the manor, with only starlight peeking through windows to guide him past the heavy Spanish furnishings. When he reached Pedro's room, Billy half expected to find his friend sound asleep. But the other half was not so sure.
Billy could barely make out the bed in a corner beside the bureau and a wooden storage trunk.
"Pedro," he said softly. "You in there?"
He received no response and thought about speaking louder. But the fact that his friend, normally a heavy snorer, was silent drew Billy's suspicion even more.
He suddenly detected movement off to his side, then more movement behind him.
Knowing that his very survival depended upon quick and decisive action, Billy swiveled around at the same time shots were fired.
* * *
Sky Creek, Colorado — July 2012
Trina Emerson pulled her Subaru Legacy onto the paved driveway beside the log cabin she had rented for the next three months. She was sure that would be long enough to finish her latest romance novel. Whether or not it would help her to forget that this was the day she was supposed to be married was another story altogether.
Her fiancé Justin Frommer had, to put it bluntly, gotten cold feet and called the marriage and their relationship off two weeks ago, stunning Trina. He'd wanted to remain "good friends with fringe benefits," but she declined, not wishing to humiliate herself further.
Now Trina just wanted to get on with her life minus Justin. Renting the cabin one hundred and twenty-five miles from home in Denver was a good way to distance herself from her painful past as well as provide an inspirational setting for her book. In fact, Trina felt that Sky Creek was a perfect setting for her historical novel. She could envision her characters living here many years ago interacting and eventually falling in love.
She studied the renovated 19th century two-story cedar log cabin. It had a stone chimney and an entryway on the gable end. Overlooking a fresh water pond, the cabin was surrounded by seasonal wildflowers and nestled amongst towering cottonwoods and blue spruce. There were a few neighboring cabins, but all were well spaced from one another to give each its own privacy.
Trina grabbed her bags and laptop from the car. She could barely wait to get settled in and start writing again after putting that part of her life on hold for a while during wedding preparations and then grieving once it was over.
She stepped onto the covered porch. It had an old-fashioned wooden porch glider, which Trina planned to take full advantage of during her stay. She pushed aside strands of curly red hair that had fallen onto her face. Retrieving the key she'd gotten from the rental agency after signing the lease last week, Trina unlocked the door and went inside.
Immediately a strange sensation came over Trina, just like the first time she had been in the cabin. It was almost as if she had been there before. Of course that was impossible. Aside from being shown the property by the rental agent, Trina had never before set foot in Sky Creek. And, as far as she knew, her parents had never been there either. So there was no reason to believe that her mother might have spent time at the cabin while carrying Trina thirty-four years ago.
Guess I'm just being silly, she thought.
Trina set her bags down and did a quick walk-through of the place across the hardwood floor. There was a living room with a w
ood burning fireplace, kitchen with all the modern amenities, and an extra room downstairs. The rustic furnishings were antique and there was a slight mildewy smell in the air.
She went up a steep corner stairwell to a half story upstairs, where there was a bedroom and bathroom. Trina sat on the queen canopy bed admiring the planks covering the log walls and the hand-hewn rafters.
For some reason it occurred to her that the rental agent, a sprightly forty-something woman, took folklore to a different level when she'd said, "Legend has it that Billy the Kid once lived in this very cabin."
Trina, who had some knowledge of the Old West and outlaws in doing research for her books, was amused. "Oh, really? Was that before or after his death in 1881?"
The rental agent chuckled. "I'm not talking about a ghost. Many people in these parts believe that Billy escaped his supposed fate with the sheriff and settled into Sky Creek to live out his life peacefully—family and all."
Trina couldn't help but laugh, even if the notion was intriguing. The general consensus among historians was that Billy the Kid or William Bonney, his real name, was killed by Sheriff Pat Garrett. End of story.
"I suppose you're going to tell me he took up shelter here with Jesse James," Trina quipped.
The rental agent shrugged. "I'm glad to see you've got a sense of humor about it. I certainly didn't want to scare you off or anything."
"Not a chance," Trina told her. "Folklore only gives the cabin more character, which makes a great atmosphere for an author of historical fiction."
"I suppose it would at that."
Trina stood up and straightened her scoop neck top and denim cropped jeans.
Character is one thing, she thought. But a cabin haunted by outlaws is another. At least I'll never have to put any such myths to the test.
Back downstairs, Trina unpacked a few things. She realized the refrigerator was empty, so she would need to make a trip into town for some groceries. She recalled passing by a Burger King, which would be a good first step for easing her hunger pangs.
* * *
That afternoon Trina was setting up her laptop in the extra room, thankful the cabin came with WiFi, when she heard what sounded like a dog whimpering. The sound was distant and she assumed it was a hiker's pet or a neighbor's dog that was probably just lonely and looking for some tender loving attention. But then the sounds grew louder and were intermixed with barks.
Trina was about to go outside to see if the dog was hurt when the sounds suddenly seemed to be coming from inside the cabin. Upstairs. Her heart skipped a beat in that moment. Surely there wasn't a dog that had taken up residence in the cabin. How would it have gotten in and why hadn't she seen it?
Trina wondered if someone could have broken into the cabin while she was getting supplies in town. She had been assured by the rental agent that crime was practically nonexistent in Sky Creek. But that wasn't the same as zero percent, was it?
Armed only with her cell phone, Trina crept up the stairs where the dog sounds grew louder. She expected to find an injured dog and perhaps an intruder. But when she entered the room, there was no one there. The dog whimpering and barking had subsided.
Am I losing my mind? she wondered.
Trina walked over to the window she'd opened earlier to air out the room. There was a nice breeze blowing in. She looked down and was shocked to see a collie. It was looking up at her as though it had expected her to come to the window. The dog simply stood there, but did not appear to be hurt.
Suddenly it began to whimper again.
I have no idea who you belong to, she thought. Or how it seemed like you were in my room. But I suppose you're trying to tell me to help you get back home.
I'll try, but you'll have to give me something to work with.
Trina went back downstairs, relieved that there was no intruder or dog in the cabin. She hoped that by helping the dog, it wouldn't view her as the enemy. The last thing she needed was to be bitten some stray dog.
She went outside, expecting the dog to come up to her. But it was gone.
"Where'd you go?" Trina asked, looking toward the side of the cabin where there was a well-worn dirt path. There was no sign of the dog. How could it have disappeared so quickly?
Are my eyes playing tricks on me? she asked herself.
Trina checked behind the cabin and some of the surrounding area and came up empty. She assumed the dog had just made a pit stop at her cabin and had returned to its owner.
The whole thing was a little weird, but she wouldn't let it throw her off track. After all, this was just the first day of her three-month stint in Sky Creek and she might as well try to make the best of it. And that included any uninvited guests.
* * *
Will Bonner went looking for his dog who'd run out of the cabin like her tail was on fire; then literally seemed to vanish into thin air. Much like Will's wife had a year ago. It gave him a chill to think that Catherine had simply just walked away from him and their son Chris. But that seemed to be what had happened.
He had found no credible indication that Catherine had been abducted. Or killed. Not that Will was prepared to dismiss the possibility altogether. Though he had long ago walked away from his past, he was smart enough to know that it could always catch up to him.
In another lifetime he was William Bonney or, as he was known to many, Billy the Kid. He'd never really cared for the nickname, but for some reason it stuck.
That was until eighteen years ago when he somehow survived an ambush and knew it was time to put that life behind him for good. He'd taken the name Will Bonner and tried not to look back. But, inevitably, it was impossible not to, especially whenever he thought about the woman who had changed his world for the better.
Will was not sure if it was more painful or not to think that his beloved Catherine could have been the victim of one of his enemies. Or that she had simply stopped loving him and Chris without having the courage to tell them.
I may never know the truth, he thought. But it doesn't mean I'll ever stop trying.
Will heard a sound and turned around defensively. Coming toward him was his collie, Sunny.
"Where the hell did you run off to, girl?"
He bent down and rubbed the dog's head. Sunny licked his cheek.
"So you don't want to tell me, huh? All right, so be it."
Will stood to his full height of six-three and watched the dog run toward the cabin. In fact, this hadn't been the first time Sunny had disappeared. And probably wouldn't be the last. He guessed the dog had found a cozy spot out in the woods to play till she tired and was in need of some human companionship.
Will went back inside the cabin. He'd built it himself log by log as a hideout from those who wanted him dead and as a place to call his own. After meeting and marrying Catherine, a writer, they decided to settle down here. It was good, clean country and a nice place to raise a family. Chris came a year later, or seven years ago. Only before they could add more children, Catherine was gone, leaving Will to raise his son alone.
He looked in Chris's room, where his son was playing with Sunny. Chris looked a lot like his mother, fair-skinned with a few tiny freckles on his cheeks, small blue eyes, and crimson hair. Chris had taken it especially hard when his mother disappeared from their lives, blaming himself. It took everything Will had to try to convince his son that whatever the reason for Catherine's absence, it had nothing to do with him.
"You found her Papa," Chris said excitedly of the dog.
"More like she found me," Will said, glad that Sunny had not wandered off and failed to find her way back. "I need to go to the market to pick up some things. You wanna come?"
Chris seemed to think about it before shaking his head. "I'll stay and keep Sunny company."
"I kinda figured you'd say that. I won't be long."
Will took one last look at his boy and dog, not knowing what he'd do if they were to leave him too.
Grabbing his crusty old sugar-loaf sombrero hat, Will w
ent out the door.
* * *
Trina began the morning with a power walk, taking advantage of a nearby trail that seemed made for such. When she got back to the cabin, she almost expected to find that collie waiting for her. Instead, there was only a squirrel sitting there munching on what looked to be vegetation. It ran away when it saw her approach.
Be like that then, she thought, giggling.
Inside, Trina checked her cell for messages. She had three: one from a Lucille Bonner, one from Trina's best friend Madsen Griffin, and another from her ex-fiancé. What did he want?
She was in no hurry to find out, deleting his message without listening. He had given up the right to phone her and expect a response.
Trina listened to the message from Lucille Bonner.
"Hi, Trina, I'm the owner of the cabin you're renting. I'll be in Sky Creek this afternoon and thought I might drop by to say hello. If that works for you, please give me a call at..."
Trina saw no reason why she shouldn't meet her landlord. Perhaps Lucille could give her more tidbits about the cabin that weren't quite as outlandish as those supplied by the rental agent.
She called her and set up a meeting at two o'clock.
Then she called Madsen.
"Miss me already, huh?" Trina said.
"Yes, I'll admit it," Madsen said. "But I understand why you left. Who'd want to stay here and risk running into you-know-who?"
"Yeah, who would?" Not me, Trina thought. "Justin is definitely a jerk and I'm better off without him. However, coming to Sky Creek was more about needing a retreat to work on my novel."
You just keep trying to convince yourself of that, Trina mused.
Madsen didn't argue the point. "So how is it there anyway?"
Trina decided not to mention the mysterious dog. Otherwise Madsen might think it was some weird manifestation of Justin haunting her.
And Trina just might think it was true.
"It's great," she said. "It's the ideal combination of rustic beauty and solitude. One can just imagine all the history this place has seen." Trina felt prompted to repeat a tale, embellishing it a bit. "In fact, the rental agent actually told me that Billy the Kid once lived in this very cabin."