T.L.B. Wood - Tombstone, 1881

Tombstone, 1881

A Symbiont Time Travel Adventure

Book Two

by

T. L. B. Wood

Published by ePublishing Works!

www.epublishingworks.com

ISBN: 978-1-61417-835-4

By payment of required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this eBook. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of copyright owner.

Please Note

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

The reverse engineering, uploading, and/or distributing of this eBook via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author's rights is appreciated.

Copyright 2014, 2016 by Tara Brooks Wood. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

Cover and eBook design by eBook Prep www.ebookprep.com

Dedication

For Amy and Bobbi

Chapter 1

I startled awake and stared, momentarily disoriented, into the darkness that surrounded me. It was only a second later that I recognized the familiar surroundings of my bedroom and felt the rapid beating of my heart begin to slow. I was cold, but that was not unusual for one of my kindthe result of a very slow metabolism. Taking a deep breath, I slowly let the air escape my lungs and with it went the tension in my body. The tortured dreams of my companion, Kipp, had buffeted me all through the night, and I lacked the will to block his thoughts from my mind.

I hazarded a quick peek over my shoulder; Kipp lay still, for the most part, except for a tiny twitching of his shoulder which had just recently undergone orthopedic surgery. Normally he would be awakened by my thoughts, but the medication he received for pain the previous evening had deepened his slumber.

With as little disturbance to the bed as possible, I slid out from beneath the sheets and bit back an exclamation when my bare feet hit the worn wooden planks of the floor. It was mid January and cold in this part of North Carolina. Local weather predictions called for snow by the weekend. Sliding my feet into some worn house shoes, I padded softly from the room, pulling the door almost shut in my wake.

Yawning, I found the familiar path to the kitchen and welcomed the soft glow of the overhead light. I'd frequently traveled in time to places with no electricity or running water; of the two, I found waterespecially hot waterto be most missed.

This room, like all in my house, was small but oddly cozy. With my interest in things old, the shelves were filled with aged bottles and bits and pieces of junk that I'd found at antique stores and yard sales. The idea I was surrounded by the past was comforting, and I liked to think, as I stared at an amber colored bottle, that someone years ago had held the piece of glass or had placed a flower bouquet in it. Philo liked to think of me as practical, but I suspect I had more than a little of the wistful romantic in my soul.

While the coffee was brewing, I walked to the living room and checked the fireplace. Fortunately, I had visited it during the middle of the night for stoking, and there were a number of hot embers glowing from the ashes. I placed a couple of pieces of red oak on the grate and left them to make up their minds whether or not to succumb to the lurking fire.

Back in the kitchen, I inhaled deeply and almost salivated at the scent of the coffee. During my times of deprivation, I'd been called upon to drink many noxious brews and to be home, safe, with a cup of strong, black coffee seemed to me to be the most treasured pleasure of all. I sat at the scarred kitchen table and stared out the back window which overlooked an untended garden in the rear. Of course, this time of year, the ground was frozen, and I had little worry about when I would get time to cut the grass or pull weeds. With delight I spied a cardinal who was paying a visit to my solitary bird feeder. At least I had presence of mind to fill it with sunflower seed, and he attacked the bounty with greed. His bright red color was a nice contrast to the grey outside. But it was early, I thought to myself. This could be one of those cold, crisp days with a sky that is a bright, endless blue.

I propped my feet up on an adjacent chair and allowed my mind to wander. With care, I did a gentle, sweeping canvas of the bedroom; Kipp was still asleep. But in the next moment, I could feel a wave go through his mind as he began to cycle into another relentless session of nightmares. Sitting there, I debated over whether to wake him or allow him to process all the mental debris with which he struggled. Both Juno and Philo had counseled me to let Kipp deal with his issues in his own good time. But it was hard. I mean, when you love someone, you don't want to see him in pain.

The fact I suffered, too, was of little concern. Yes, I was a telepatha very talented one, or at least I'd been toldand Kipp's dreams buffeted my psyche as much as his... maybe more. But I knew I had the discipline to shut out his thoughts. Why I chose not to, I wondered, as I took another sip of coffee.

The thought hit me that I chose to remain connected and active with Kipp's mind because we had made a commitment to one another. And in my book, one does not run away and hide simply because there are rough roads to traverse. Kipp was my bonded partner, and I would be with him, at least mentally, as long as he needed me. The phone rang shrilly, and I rushed to grab it before the sound made its way to Kipp.

"Hello," I said, but the comment was not a question on my part. I recognized the vibrations from a distance and realized the caller was Philo. Distance caused our telepathic accuracy to suffer... with the exception of Kipp... and I only knew the caller because of an impression I formed.

"How are you this morning?" Philo's deep voice crossed the miles. He, too, lived in the general vicinity of Research Triangle Park but not in my neighborhood.

"Okay," I answered, walked over to pour more coffee. "Enjoying some hot coffee," I added. "Kipp is still asleep."

Philo was quiet for a moment. "I guess that's to be expected. The physical therapy each day is pretty taxing, and he is receiving pain medications pretty regularly." He paused before asking, "And his dreams?"

I didn't want to get into that, since I'd never appreciated a whiner. And to make comments about the dreams brought the inherent understanding that I was negatively affected. Since I knew I could handle the mental load, I hesitated to comment.

"I know you, Petra," Philo said. "You won't complain, but the reason I ask is to see if Kipp needs help. I recognize you are a complete hardhead, and that you are beyond needing anyone's assistance."