As Cade unpacks some of the packages from the back of the cart, I stand there, too stunned to move. Lucy makes her way to the door of the house and glances back at me, her eyebrow cocked.
"Is everything alright?"
I swallow hard. I don’t know how to put this into words without sounding completely and utterly insane. I feel as though they will think I’m crazy if I so much as breathe a word of what is on my mind right now, but I can’t just go along with this as though there is nothing off.
"Lucy," I murmur to her, as I close the distance between us quickly. "What...what year is it?"
Lucy doesn’t seem entirely surprised by the question – Cade brushes past us without a word, hefting a bag over his shoulder as he makes his way inside.
"It’s 1857," she replies, cocking her head to the side with clear intrigue. "Why?”
I glance down at my clothes – a little tee and a pair of shorts fit for a roadtrip, not for a fucking journey through time. My knees grow weak, and I have to lean against the door to keep from them giving out from under me entirely as I try to wrap my head around what she is saying to me.
"1857," I repeat after her, my voice weak, threatening to crack at any second. She nods once more.
"Yes..."
"Oh, my God..."
My hand flies to my mouth and tears prick my eyes as the sheer, unrelenting shock coursing through me so intensely it feels as though the ground might give out right under my feet. The blood drains from my face, and nausea twists in my stomach as Lucy stares back at me, her brows knitted together in a sympathetic expression.
"Here, come inside," she suggests, as she goes to put an arm around me and steer me into the house. But I shrug her off at once, pulling back as though I can undo this.
"Don’t - don’t touch me," I protest, my voice cracking as I force the words out. "You’re lying to me! I don’t know why, but you’re lying to me..."
"I’m not lying, hon," she promises me, and she seems to be taking this with surprising ease. "I’m telling you the truth. Why don’t you come inside, and we can-"
"No!” I exclaim once more. "No, you can’t just – you can’t just talk like this is normal. I was in the twenty-first century two hours ago, and now..."
"Hey!”
A voice cuts across my protests, and I look up in time to see Cade striding towards us, his face twisted into a mask of anger.
"Don’t talk to my sister like that," he growls to me, stepping in between us. All at once, a flush of panic moves through me – this man is strong, there’s no doubt about it, and if he decidesthat he doesn’t like me, he could have me out on my ass in a matter of seconds.
And here I am, railing against his sister like I’ve got anywhere else to go, like there’s anywhere else in the world I could belong in the face of all of this madness.
For a moment, I consider standing up to him, telling him that I’m not going to indulge his sister’s madness any more than I want to go along with whatever else the people of this town seem to have pulled together.
But, as he glares down at me, his brow furrowed, his gray eyes piercing straight through me, his jaw clenched – I know I’d be stupid to put up a fight.
I don’t know what is going on here. I don’t know how the hell I am going to be able to fix it, if there’s any way to put it right at all. But what I do know is that these people might be the only thing I have in the way of allies in this moment, and I’d be the worst kind of stupid to ignore that.
"I – I'm sorry," I mutter, lowering my gaze to the ground. Lucy, pressing her lips together, brushes her brother aside and takes my arm.
"It’s okay," she promises me. "Come on in, we’ll get you something to eat. Won’t we, Cade?”
I look back to her brother – but the way he is looking at me, I get the feeling that he is still not entirely convinced that he wants me around at all.
Shit, that makes two of us.
CHAPTER 2
Cade
"Morning," Lucy chirps to me, as she makes her way into the kitchen, her eyes bright, her hair freshly braided. She looks as though she’s slept well, which is more than I can say for myself, given the circumstances.
I don’t reply as I push a cup of coffee towards her, which she accepts gratefully, lifting it to her lips and taking a sip. She eyes me over the top of the cup, and, much to my annoyance, I’m sure she can tell what’s going on inside my head right now.
