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Feeling as if he’d been attached to a spinning wagon wheel on a long journey, Jesse had started to come around. He blinked a few times and rubbed his eyes. Was this the same room he’d been in just a few minutes ago?

“Good, you’re up. I hope your trip wasn’t too bad.”

Jesse’s gaze fell on the woman standing in the corner with her arms folded, looking over at him.

“Whoa,” he said, jumping back in his seat, cringing as pain shot through him from the sudden movement, reminding him again of the gunshot injury.

“Now calm down, Jesse. I’m going to help you through this.”

“Wait a dog gone minute here,” he said, taking in the strange, but seemingly mirrored setting.

“Lady, what was in that medicine you gave me? I don’t know what you’ve done to my head but I sure don’t appreciate it.” And what the hell was she wearing? The dress was paper-thin and you could see her ankles?

Miss Dunham? Or someone like her, smiled. “I assure you, Jesse. I’m not doing anything to your head,” she said, walking over to a trunk and pulling out some clothes.

“Now, there’s no easy way for me to explain what’s happening so I’ll just give it to you straight. Sometimes people are born in the wrong era. Cissie and I help them find their place in the world, whether it’s past, present or future. You’ve been transported to the future. The year is 2017. We provide the way, but it’s up to you to create your destiny once you get to where you belong. For you, it’s here. You have a short time to either choose to stay or go back to 1880, where you’ll have to deal with your crimes.”

She flipped the letter from Miss Dunham at him, who he assumed was Cissie. Maybe they were cousins, or sisters. They looked alike but something was a little bit odd here. What had she given him in that medicine?

“Now, you said you wanted help, a way to escape the trouble you were in. This is it.”

Jesse scratched the side of his head, trying to process it all. He crooked his head around, giving his sore shoulder a comforting rub—something that felt real, even if it stung.

“Yeah, about that. I’m not sure why, but your injury seemed to come along for the ride too. Unfortunately, sometimes these things happen. Time travel isn’t an exact science. Although I’m sure quantum physics has a theory on it. Anyway, whiskey still works for easing the pain, and we have some other stuff that’ll help you as well.” Moira winked.

What was she talking about? What physics and time-travel? Jesse’s shook his head a few times hoping to come to terms with what was going on.

She placed a shirt and some fancy jeans next to where he was sitting.

“Here are some clean clothes. I’ll answer all your questions. You should have plenty, so just ask.”

She continued to fumble through a drawer, soon pulling out a white box with a red cross.

“Is that a gun case?” he asked, instinctively moving his hand to his side, feeling for his guns.

Glancing over at his gesture, she laughed. “Are you planning to shoot me now? I know all about your past. It’s best you leave it there,” she said, taking a seat next to Jesse.

Really? His past? He had to be dreaming. There was no way he’d been transported into the future. This Miss Dunham lady was a real joker, except he wasn’t finding her words amusing at all.

“Look, Miss Dunham. Just show me the way out.”

She gave him a pitying smile. “Actually, my name is Moira. I can do that, but I suggest you let me change the padding on that wound before you leave. The law might mistake you for a criminal or something, running around wearing what you have on. And it’s illegal to carry concealed here, so consider yourself warned.”

“Concealed what?” He frowned at her.

“Guns.” She raised her eyebrows at him.

Was she kidding?

He looked down at his clothes. A small quarter size of blood had seeped through the bandage and on to his shirt. Still, he had no intentions of continuing his conversation with the crazy lady standing before him.

Rising up, he paused, grabbing the wall as he tried to balance himself. He was still feeling a little off balance.

“You really need to let me help you or at least get you to a doctor,” she said, ushering him back to where he'd been seated.

“No. I’ll help myself,” he said, getting up and stumbling out the room, down the hall, and into a large kitchen.

He raised his hand to shield himself from the arrangement of overhead pots dangling from the ceiling.

Behind him, she called out, “Watch out for the cars, there are no wagons, and don’t get into any trouble.”

She came toward him and he scooted around her. If he remembered rightly, there was a back door here into the alley.

“If you need me, I’m here,” she shouted as he rushed out.

He stumbled into the alley which looked different somehow. Boy, that medicine had been strong stuff. But his heart felt like it slowed slightly when he saw Lady patiently waiting for him. Missing her saddle, and kit but no matter. It would be okay. He’d ridden Injun style before. Jesse would mount up and ride for as long as he could, then take shelter somewhere until he figured out a plan. He just had to escape.

He eased her out onto the open road, and she shied, nearly tumbling him off her as he clutched her mane.

Large rolling machines headed straight in his direction. He felt his eyes widen as he took in the unfamiliar territory, calming Lady, pushing her forward to cross the busy road. People inside the machines were hollering out words, some familiar, others not so much. The last place he’d been in was Heartsbridge, Texas. This place wasn’t his childhood home. Where was he?