From Home to High Plains

High Plains Stranger

I looked up abruptly into the eyes of a tall, dark stranger. A tall dark, handsome stranger.

"Is everything okay, miss?" The stranger questioned as he looked me over. 

I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He looked almost identical to the Marshal from my daydream - steel blue eyes, a Tom Selleck moustache, and wavy brown hair peeking out from underneath his hat. I smiled, happy to be back in my dream again.

"Uh.. yeah, I think so." I answered, watching as the stranger stuck his arm out to help me up. I stumbled as I stood, and felt the stranger's hand on my waist, helping me gain my balance. Blushing, I did my best to brush the tan dust off of me. 

The stranger looked around at the crowd. "Did anyone see what happened?"

I heard a few few people start chattering, with bits and pieces about how I'd fainted as soon as I'd gotten off the stagecoach. 

"Where are you headed?" He asked, looking down at me again.

"....here, I guess?" I responded, unsure of where here was.

Squinting his eyes, he questioned me again. " Where'd you come from?"

I froze, trying to think of what to say. A small town in Oklahoma? My college dorm room? The year 2022? 

"...not here?"

Well, that sounded dumb. I should've just said Oklahoma.

He continued to stare at me, as did the rest of the people gathered around me. I'm sure they thought I was crazy.

Wait, this is my dream, right? Surely, I can change it?

I closed my eyes, concentrating, trying to back up the conversation. Nothing happened. 

My eyes opened, his cold, intense stare still on me. 

"You have a name?" 

My heart was pounding in my chest. I wasn't sure why I was so nervous, but I was beginning to wonder if this really was a dream.

"Eleanor Miller," I answered honestly, sticking out my hand for a handshake.

The stranger looked at it for a moment before finally shaking my hand. "Marshal Matthew Griffin. I think we better get you a place to stay." 

~

I struggled to keep up with the Marshal as he walked across the street, leaving the crowd to gossip among themselves. The large white wooden building we were walking towards had "HOTEL" painted in black pealing letters. Next door was a saloon, followed by the charred remains of a building. Nearing the end of the street stood a few more buildings, and finally a Sheriff's office. I drew my attention away from the street to step up the wooden stairs, lifting up my skirts as I went. The sun glared down from straight above making me realize how much I was sweating. 

When I get to my room, I'll change into something a little lighter, I promised myself.

I followed the Marshal through the wooden door into the hotel. 

Inside behind a desk, stood an older woman, her gray hair pulled into a tight bun and wire glasses perched on her nose. 

"Do you have a room for -" the Marshal turned his head to look at me, "Miss Miller, was it?" I nodded, and he looked back to the old woman, awaiting her answer.

The woman nodded, "We have a few open, will you be needing one too, Marshal?" 

He shook his head, "I don't plan on being in town that long," he bluntly answered.