Traveler trilogy Book 2, updates every Friday!
Five years after killing Levi Cornwall, Arthur Morgan is happy. He has a wife who loves him, an honest job he enjoys, and two beautiful children named Sadie and Hiram. All of it is turned on its head, h...
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Mac crept through the woods under the cover of darkness.
Jenny had been ignoring him ever since their argument in town the other day. She hadn't answered any of his letters, and with each day that passed without a response from her, Mac grew more and more sad and anxious. She really was pissed at him it seemed, and the more he waited, the more worried he grew that she was done with him for good.
It was risky, but he had to talk to her. Holding her in his arms was like a drug, and without his fix, he had more and more trouble coping with daily life. To that end, he figured he'd have to go to her and beg for forgiveness on his knees. He'd lied to her, he'd royally screwed up, and it just might be the end of the best thing to happen to him since Charlotte.
As he moved, Mac found himself picturing Charlotte, as a matter of fact. Her death had been so long ago that her face was just a sort of smudge to him now. He remembered her beautiful eyes that danced when she laughed and her soft, smooth hair. He could recall in perfect detail the way her skin felt beneath his fingertips and how making love to her made his soul feel complete. But the fine lines of her face, the way her cheeks curved, and the size of her nose were all things he struggled to remember now because she'd been dead for so long.
But even she would have been disappointed with him right now. He'd lied to Jenny, not to mention the other kind folks he currently lived with, including Mrs. Morgan, who might as well have been a saint.
Mac understood perfectly why Arthur loved his wife. When he watched them, he couldn't help but notice that the way they looked at each other was the same way he'd used to look at Charlotte. Mrs. Morgan was a sharp-tongued and quick-witted woman who was as intelligent as she was beautiful. She was quite adept at domestic things like cooking, mending, and washing, but she could handle a gun and do a man's work if needed. She could go from vigorously butchering a deer to singing sweetly to the babies in her belly in the blink of an eye, and she loved her husband more than life itself. After all, she'd taken the risk of coming back here to support him even though she was pregnant with twins.
Mrs. Morgan couldn't hold a candle to his beloved Jenny, but Mac was in awe of her just the same. She was a lot like Charlotte in many ways, and the perfect sort of woman for a former outlaw like Arthur. Even when Arthur and Mary Gillis had been in love, Mac had never seen him this happy. His time in the future had truly changed him, and in Mac's opinion, Arthur deserved some happiness. He'd been a broken man since his son's death, and the wound inflicted by the boy's passing had maimed Arthur so that he was never the same after. Mac knew a thing or two about losing a child, it made him all the more glad that Arthur seemed happy these days.
He put these thoughts aside as he drew nearer to the old, decrepit manor house. It might have been beautiful at one point, but now it was an old, crumbling shack of wood with peeling paint and vines growing all over it. It reminded him of his father's house near San Antonio back in the day. Like Shady Belle, the house Mac spent most of his childhood in was large and stately and staffed by slaves in its heyday. Only the slaves Mac's father kept had been cowboys, and the ones here had likely been laborers for the cotton or indigo fields.
