Missing in Lavender: A Time Travel Romance (Lavender, Texas series Book 6) by Bartholomew Barbara

Author:Bartholomew, Barbara [Bartholomew, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-03-23T04:00:00+00:00

When he came out on plowed ground and saw an isolated farm house in the distance, Jerry swore softly with relief. Finally. He could get somebody to go with him to rescue Myers.

Evening darkened around him and the lighted windows of the well-built little house, backed up by a good sized barn seemed almost like civilization to him. If he hadn’t already been convinced that he could not possibly be in Lavender, the glow of candlelight from that home would not have persuaded him otherwise. Country homes in Lavender also depended on primitive lighting. He was aware of the familiar sound of a horse neighing nearby and with sudden sharpness was reminded of his home on the ranch in Oklahoma.

Weary and starving as he was, he knocked with loud impatience at the door and stamped from one foot to the other as he heard the sound of someone moving through the house in his direction.

Well over six feet tall, he found himself looking down at a little old man with a white beard that made him look like a cross between Santa Claus and Rumpelstiltskin. Measuring barely over five feet and appearing almost as wide as he was tall, he nevertheless looked quite formidable considering the long barrel of a shot gun he was pointing straight at Jerry’s middle.

Slowly Jerry raised his hands. “I’m looking for help,” he shouted. “And you’re standing there holding a gun on me.”

The man turned his head to spit tobacco. “Don’t know you. Stranger prowling around my place at night trying to steal my horses.”

“I have horses of my own. I wouldn’t steal yours. Mine are safe on my parents’ place in . . .” He nearly said Oklahoma, but guessing when he was, figured his home state didn’t even have a name yet. “Up near the territory.”

The old man’s face puckered with thought. “Rough country. Lots of outlaws up there.”

Jerry wasn’t about to argue what was to him history. “I’m here because of your neighbor, Mr. Meyers. He’s been beaten and is being held captive by outlaws.” True enough, he decided, though in the modern world they had other titles.

“Young Herman? Well, dad-burned, why didn’t you say so?” Still he didn’t lower the gun, though he turned back toward the open doorway. “Just let me load this gun and we’ll be off to see about him. You go down to the barn and saddle us some horseflesh.”

Jerry couldn’t help inner laughter as he went in the direction indicated to find within the neatly kept barn that smelled of horses and hay, three horses drowsing over their food, but coming alert watchfully at the approach of a stranger.

He’d gotten one ready to go and was about to start on another when the little man stomped in after him, putting down his gun to see that his horses were being treated right.

Jerry couldn’t help being amazed his host had so quickly accepted his request for help, but noticed that the gun lay on a bale of hay on the other side where it could be easily reached.

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