Page 59 of Borrowed Time

By some unspoken agreement, they headed toward the park. On this weekday morning, it wasn’t overly crowded, with only a few people taking advantage of the fine weather for a stroll along its gravel paths. The ducks, it seemed, didn’t mind how chilly the water must be, and splashed around at one end of the pond quacking and having what seemed to be a pretty good time.

Devynn paused not too far away from them — as much, Seth guessed, to let the noise the birds were making conceal their conversation as to watch their antics.

“This is better,” she said, although she let out a breath that was visible in the cold air, hanging like a puff of smoke before it dissipated. “But I still feel as if everyone is watching us.”

He allowed himself a glance around. One couple taking their morning constitutional had already meandered off in the direction of San Francisco Street, and the others were at the far end of the park, distant enough that he guessed they were well out of earshot.

Not that it seemed as if they were paying much attention to what he and Devynn were saying.

“I’m not so sure about that,” he said, and she gave him a tired smile.

“Maybe not right here, right now,” she allowed. “But still, everything just feels…oppressive.”

She sounded so weary, so defeated, that he couldn’t quite hold back a flash of alarm.

Surely she wasn’t giving up just because the experiment the day before hadn’t gone the way they’d planned?

“Devynn, what’s wrong? Did something happen last night?”

She tugged her cheerful flowered shawl around her a little more tightly, even as she shook her head. “Not really. Just bad dreams, I guess. But I’m letting them get to me more than I should, I suppose.”

As much as he wanted to reach over to her and pull her into his arms, he knew that wasn’t an option, not when they were standing in such a public place. And although he hated to hear her sound like this, he could guess where all this was coming from. While they needed to work together to get away from this time and this place, she must know that the means of their escape mostly rested on her. He could whisk them to Jerome without a problem, but if she couldn’t get her powers to do what they needed them to do, they’d be stuck in the past forever.

Or at least, until they aged naturally and at last caught up to 1926.

“This has been hard, I know,” he said. “And I think what you really need is to take a little break.”

She shot him a half-amused look, one eyebrow lifted slightly. “And how am I supposed to do that? It’s not like we can jump in a car and drive down to Phoenix to have a day in the sun.”

Was that something she used to do? He guessed it wouldn’t have been too hard, not with self-driving cars and all the Arizona clans apparently one big, happy family in her time. In late winter, when the cold and the snow-laden skies seemed to be far too much, it probably would be the perfect escape for Wilcoxes who needed a day of warm temperatures and sunny skies.

“Maybe not,” he allowed. “But still, you must have had your favorite places to go around town, didn’t you? Private spots where you could get away to think?”

Now she looked thoughtful. “I used to like driving up to the overlook on Mars Hill” — she pointed to a large forested hill west of downtown — “but I think it’s still too close in. My other favorite place was Lockett Meadow.”

“Where’s that?”

Her gaze moved to the snow-crested peaks of the San Francisco range. “On the other side of the mountains. It’s a gorgeous place with lots of aspens, and it’s absolutely spectacular in the summer and fall. Even now, I’m sure it must still be pretty, although the aspens must be bare by this point.”

It did sound like a good place, far enough away that they could be alone without having to worry about anyone intruding on their solitude. For all he knew, there weren’t even roads out there yet, since it sounded as though it must be fairly rough country.

“Except I have no idea how we’ll even get there,” she went on, echoing his thoughts. “Even in my time, it’s a rough dirt road,and in 1884, I’m not sure anyone has even ventured out to that spot at all except maybe some loggers and a few surveyors or whatever.”

These sorts of logistics were not the sort of thing he needed to worry about. “We don’t need roads, Devynn,” he said, and she gazed back at him for a second before comprehension dawned in her clear blue-gray eyes.

“You’re right,” she said, and this time the smile she wore looked real enough. “But we should probably go back to the hotel first.”

Yes, that was true. He had a feeling that even the disinterested couple on the other side of the park might be startled by having the two of them disappear into thin air.

He looped his arm in Devynn’s.

“Let’s go.”

As she’d said, this place seemed so far removed from bustling Flagstaff that it might as well be on the other side of the planet. They’d gone back to his hotel room, and she’d taken up a pen and paper provided for guests’ use and sketched out a quick picture of the meadow and the peaks above it, ones that looked very different when viewed from this entirely new angle.

And now they stood here, with everything utterly silent except the faint sigh of the wind in the pines and the cry of a hawk far off to the west.

“It is beautiful,” he said, gaze sweeping over the aspens, elegant and slim, the naked branches creating their own intricate patterns.

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