West of Paradise Read online

  For a second he stared like a kid at Christmas. He was really here . . . or there: Leavenworth, Kansas. And there on the corner across the street was the Silver Slipper, two doors down from the barber’s, just like Miss Adjani had said.

  Jack shoved his hat down on his head and walked across the street, trying not to stare at the wagons and horses jostling along the wide street. He stepped up onto the sidewalk and pushed the doors open. The smell of whiskey and cigars assaulted him.

  Chapter Two

  Katherine

  Katherine was bored. It was a new experience. To be sure there had been moments of boredom, brief interludes that had passed before they’d really begun. But those moments had been tiny fragments of her life, fleeting bits of time that were over before they had a chance to settle.

  What she felt now was complete and utter boredom.

  She glanced over at the king-sized bed where her fiancé sprawled inelegantly beneath satin sheets, one arm draped over the bedside. Moonlight flooded the room and bathed his form in quicksilver light. Perfect, she thought. He was as perfect a man as she could have imagined, from his silky black hair to his manicured toes. What was there not to like? He was intelligent, funny, sensitive when it mattered, and an excellent lover. But the longer she studied him the more she realized that there was nothing about him she loved. She had no desire to snuggle close, no desire to kiss him as he slept, and not the slightest inclination to wake him and share her troubled heart.

  And she knew at that moment, despite the barrage of protests she would hear, she would not marry Antonio D’Salvatore. What had happened? What had made her lose interest in everything, including Tony? It was as if there was something missing. But what?

  Katherine sighed, wishing she could bring back her old self, the one that had been so satisfied with her life. Gazing at her fiancé only made it worse. He would be hurt and angry. But as much as she didn’t want to hurt him, she knew she couldn’t marry him. She would have to tell him.

  She dressed in silence, not bothering to pack, taking time only to scribble a note to Tony and feeling like the worst kind of coward for doing so. He would hate her once he got over being hurt. Her friends would have no explanation for her change of heart. There would be talk of another lover. And her grandfather . . .

  Katherine grabbed her purse from the living room, tiptoeing out to the elevator. There was no explanation, nothing she could put into words that anyone would understand.

  Down in the garage she found her Jaguar, parked in between a Porsche and a late model Rolls Royce. The key turned, and the motor purred to life. Moments later she slipped out from beneath the cool parking garage, racing along sleepy, humid streets.

  Seven hours later she pulled into the white-shelled drive and breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a long time since she had come here. She hadn’t used the house at all since she met Tony. He didn’t know about it. No one knew about it except her grandfather.

  Once inside Katherine wrote a quick note to Rose, her housekeeper, letting her know that she’d arrived and would be staying a while. Upstairs she took a shower, slipped into a short silk robe and then into bed, falling asleep to the sound of the sea crashing against the jetty.

  When she woke the next morning the sun was a hazy orb in the pale blue sky, glinting off the ocean. Downstairs she found evidence of Rose’s efficiency: a fully stocked refrigerator, coffee ready to go, and a message to call her grandfather.

  So, he knows already, she thought. Tony must have called him.

  She considered not calling, knowing she couldn’t explain properly, but even as she debated her cell beeped, and two minutes later there was a text from her grandfather saying he was ten minutes away. It almost made her a little mad, that he would just show up. Except she knew it was because he loved her.

  Five minutes later his limo was pulling in and she made him coffee and took him outside to the deck. A warm breeze rolled in off the Atlantic, bringing with it the smell of salt and spray. Katherine forced herself to look at him, feeling guilty for no reason except that she knew he hated drama.

  “Katie? Are you all right?” He squinted at her, studying her as if she might be ill.

  “Yes, Grandfather, I’m fine,” she said, trying to sound certain.

  “You don’t look it,” he said.

  “I’m sorry,” Katherine said automatically.

  “It’s not me you need to apologize to, it’s Tony,” he said. “I’ve been on the phone half the day with him. He’s sick with worry. Now, when are you coming home?”

  Katherine took a deep breath. “I’m not,” she said. “At least, not for a while.”

  “What do you mean, you’re not coming home?”

  “I’m going to stay here for a while, and . . . and I won’t be marrying Tony. You can tell him that I meant what I said.”

  “Good God, Katherine, this wedding has been planned for over a year now! The invitations have been sent out, caterers hired . . .”

  “Grandfather,” Katherine reached a hand across the table and put her hand on his. “I’m not going to marry him. I’ll pay the caterers and everything, but I’m not marrying Tony.”

  “Have you met someone else?”

  “No, Grandfather,” Katherine said with a faint laugh. She almost wished she had.

  “Then what in God’s name is going on?”

  “I just need some time. And I need to be alone. Please don’t give Tony my number here, and don’t tell him where I am.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?” He peered at her, his blue eyes sharp.

  “Yes, I am.”

  He was silent for a second. “Katie, are you in any trouble?”

  “No.”

  He slumped a little in relief, nodding. “All right then, I won’t tell Tony where you are—if that’s what you want. But you ought to call him and try to explain.”

  She nodded, even though she knew she wouldn’t.

  “And you’ll call me if you need anything?”

  “Yes, Grandfather.”

  “All right, then. I’ll leave you be. But you take care of yourself, Katie. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  He drank his coffee and kissed her on the head before he left, no doubt back to New York. Only her grandfather would drive eight hours for a twenty-minute chat with her, just to make certain she was all right. She shook her head and closed her eyes, listening to the tide, the rhythmic hush over rock and sand. For a while it lulled her and her mind drifted.

  Was she afraid? Was that it? She thought she’d been perfectly happy with the way things were. In fact, she was sure of it. But she knew what people would say. They would trace it to her childhood; they would say her parents’ death still haunted her.

  But she was sure it had nothing to do with that time. Yes, she’d been shocked and saddened by their loss, but the truth was she hadn’t really known them. She’d spent her school vacations and holidays with her grandfather while they went off on their little adventures, searching for the past. She’d never felt close to them, not the way she did with her grandfather. He was the one who was always there for her.

  Others would say it was the money. After all, everyone knew the super-rich were never happy. But she was quite certain she had been happy. Right up until a month ago. She distinctly remembered feeling giddy with happiness whenever she thought about getting married and settling down with Tony. They had even discussed children!

  With an angry sigh she rose and went inside, turning her back on the ocean and sand. She found her tablet in the kitchen and pulled up The New York Times—July 31, 2025—perusing the headlines while she debated whether to read or go for a walk. But before she could decide, an ad caught her eye.

  It was unlike anything she had seen. The delicate printing looked like it belonged on
an invitation to a fantasy ball, not an ad for a vacation, which was precisely what made her look again.

  Paradise Tours

  with offices in New York, Los Angeles, and London

  1-800-555-2323

  ❧

  “This is ridiculous,” Katherine said. “Call the First National in New York.”

  “Actually, the point is not to see whether or not you can afford it, but rather whether or not you would benefit.”

  “Of course I would benefit! I wouldn’t be here otherwise. What sort of operation is this anyway? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “Please, Miss Kennedy, just answer the questions.”

  Katherine gritted her teeth. This was crazy! Who ever heard of having to fill out a questionnaire in order to take a vacation? And who was this woman with the odd accent? She was so annoyingly calm. Usually Katherine was able to have her way with people. After all, she was CEO of McLeod Industries, and she hadn’t gotten there by being a doormat.

  Oh, why was she even doing this? She should have stayed on the Cape. The summer wasn’t even over yet! Katherine took a deep breath, reminding herself that getting angry was not helpful. And she could always leave; simply get up and walk out. But she shook her head and put pen to paper.

  Fifteen minutes later she handed the paper to Miss Adjani, who smiled.

  “Thank you,” the woman said. “I’ll go over these and give you a ring later. Did you leave a phone number where you can be reached?”

  “Yes, first page,” Katherine said.

  The woman searched the papers until she found the correct one and nodded. “Great. I’ll let you know as soon as possible. We try not to make people wait.”

  Katherine nodded, wanting to snap the woman’s neck. But she smiled and left and cursed herself for noticing that stupid ad. She must be mad.

  Back at the hotel room Katherine stripped and showered, washing the sweat from her body and emerging feeling cleaner if not better. Maybe she should go see a psychiatrist. Maybe there was something wrong. But she knew deep down that seeing a professional and trying to explain what she was feeling would be impossible. They’d laugh her right out of the office. They’d see her background, assume they knew everything about her, and decide she was just another spoiled rich bitch. They’d prescribe the latest mood enhancer and shake their heads after she’d gone. They wouldn’t understand. How could they? She couldn’t even put it into words for herself.

  She ordered room service and paced by the window while she waited. Outside she could see the city of Los Angeles, still shrouded in smog, lights just starting to come on. The distraction of her meal was a welcome one, but as soon as she finished it, the evening stretched ahead of her. She went for a walk, stopped for a glass of wine in the bar, and half watched a docu-drama about lobsters.

  It took forever to fall asleep, and it seemed she’d hardly got there when an annoying buzz woke her. She reached over to shut the alarm off, but there was no alarm clock on the night table, only the phone, which she knocked to the floor.

  “Hello?” she mumbled into the receiver, leaving the screen dark.

  “Miss Kennedy?”

  “Yes?”

  “This is Miss Adjani, from Paradise Tours.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “We believe we may be able to accommodate you, if you are still interested.”

  “I am,” Katherine said, not sure if she was.

  “Good. Meet me at LAX tomorrow at oh-six-hundred hours, runway fourteen. We’ll be taking a private plane to Cristobel.”

  “I’ll be there,” Katherine said.

  The line fell silent and Katherine put the phone down. Doubt flickered through her mind, and she considered calling her grandfather to tell him what she was doing, where she was going. But instead she called the desk for a wake-up call and went back to sleep.

  ❧

  They arrived before noon. Miss Adjani gave Katherine the grand tour straight off, taking her around the paths on the island, showing her the private white sand beaches, the little lagoon on the east side, and the common rooms from the immense library to the tiny patio beyond the French doors. Then Miss Adjani left her at her room to relax for a few hours before dinner.

  “Come down to the east gallery at six,” she said as she left. “I’ll introduce you to Louis Cade, the proprietor of this island.”

  Katherine agreed and finished unpacking. She took a shower and changed into an aqua tank, white shorts, and her favorite lace-up sandals. They were worn but comfortable.

  It wasn’t until she saw him that she remembered who Louis Cade was—barely.

  He smiled broadly and walked across the gallery to greet her, taking her hands in his for a moment before ushering her to one of the many groupings of plush chairs. There was wine and Brie waiting, and as soon as he started to talk she recalled the headlines from when he’d disappeared.

  Ordinarily she didn’t care for science geeks; she didn’t understand half of what they were talking about and to be honest, it generally didn’t interest her. But strangely, she found him interesting. Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was his boyish face, his eyes sparkling with excitement, but whatever it was she found herself talking to him as if they knew one another. And then, just when she thought it was getting late, he asked an odd question.

  “Tell me something, Katherine; if you could have your heart’s desire, what would it be?”

  She stared at him, searching for words, but the sad thing was she didn’t know what her heart’s desire was. Hadn’t the slightest clue what she wanted. But she had a terrible feeling it wasn’t within her reach, not here, not now.

  “I don’t know, what is it?” she asked him back lightly.

  Louis Cade smiled. “How about something more from your vacation, something unimaginable.”

  Katherine felt her heart skip a beat and she sat up a little straighter.

  “Something that might change your life,” Cade said. “Something you have heard of but will think impossible. Imagine, Katherine, if you could travel, not to where, but to when.”

  And Katherine stared at him stupidly as so many others had done, excusing herself as soon as she could. But she came back, drawn inexplicably to the idea of it, wanting to believe.

  Three weeks later she was dressed in black, going over her last minute instructions, and certain she was about to be terribly disappointed.

  “Remember to stay west of the Mississippi,” Louis Cade reminded her again. “There’s no record of your ancestors traveling much before 1900 but there’s no point in taking a chance. Better you don’t run into anyone you’re related to.”

  “Then the paradox is true.”

  “I don’t know,” Louis Cade said. “No one has tested it yet. Don’t be the first, eh?”

  Katherine swallowed and nodded.

  “Don’t worry,” Miss Adjani said. “We have done extensive research; and there is virtually no chance of you meeting anyone in your bloodline, as long as you stay within the defined parameters. The important thing is to keep the key safe. It’s your ticket home, so to speak. Without it, well . . .”

  “Has anyone . . . not come back?”

  “Two,” Louis Cade said. “But they may have gone native for all we know.”

  The last thing Katherine saw was Louis Cade at the controls and Miss Adjani at his side.

  “Good luck, Katherine,” she heard him say. “And do be careful.”

  ❧

  Katherine gasped, eyes flying wide open.

  The room was hot and close, crates behind her, light slipping in through a window above. There was a faint smell, at once familiar and surprising. It took her a moment to recognize it. Cigar smoke. Miss Adjani had said the room was in the rear of a cigar shop.

  Was it true? Was she reall
y here? In 1881?

  She took a few deep breaths before opening the door slowly and stepping out into the hall. She paused and inspected the small plain room she’d come from, marveling at what had just occurred, and how ordinary everything appeared. Everything except for the intricate lock on the door—a lock her key would open.

  For a moment Katherine was tempted to step right back inside that room, a phrase her grandfather liked to say echoing in her head: Danger Will Robinson! But the door to her right beckoned, leading out into the past. She could see it through the wavy glass. Her heart beat faster and she hefted the valise, stepping outside into the alley.

  The ground beneath her rose into cloudy eddies, swirling about her boots. The air smelled of dry heat and dust. She blew at the veil, questioning now the wisdom of her costume choice. She had thought that wearing the black of mourning might help keep people at bay, at least until she got her bearings. But it was summer here, too, and she could feel the oppressive heat, the weight of her garments, her clothes sticking to her skin.

  Before her the street bustled with creaking wagons and a variety of horses, ranging from old and worn to trained cavalry horses from the fort, riders smartly uniformed. Everyone else was dressed as if they had just walked out of a period film, and Katherine blinked. This is real, she thought, wide-eyed. Louis Cade had actually found a way to travel back in time.

  She shook her head and began to walk, peering up and down the busy street. Leavenworth. It looked like the photo Miss Adjani had shown her. Not the prettiest town in the world, but her parents had spoken of the place on more than one occasion in connection with some sort of crime. It was the only time their obsession had piqued her interest.

  She pulled the lacy black veil aside in favor of breathing and stuffed it beneath her wide hat, crossing the street to the Silver Slipper. The name brought up images of a saloon with tables and men playing cards, though Miss Adjani had assured her it was a respectable place.