Jake stared from one man to the other. A horse neighed behind him, and shuffled through the thick straw bedding. His eyes narrowed. Where the hell was he? He’d fallen asleep on the uncomfortable mattress in his jail cell last night, thinking about his strange encounter with his new lawyer. He glanced around. He stood inside an old wooden barn, in a horse stall to be precise. The familiar pungent smell of horse sweat, manure, and hay permeated the air. The equine occupant of the stall chose that moment to blow hot air down Jake’s neck. He swatted an impatient hand at the horse’s nose to make the animal move away from him. He thought he’d seen the last of horses since leaving Montana. How did he get here?

Laney’s brows scrunched together. She glanced at her surroundings. She was inside a cramped old-fashioned coach of some sort, and the windows were wide open, sending in thick clouds of dust. She stared out at the passing landscape. Evergreens and prairieland as far as she could see. Not a hint of a skyscraper of road anywhere.

He glanced around at his unfamiliar surroundings. He was in a parlor of sorts. A short table stood a few feet away from the sofa on which he sat. An oddly-shaped lamp hung from the pastered ceiling, and Gabe squinted his good eye. It was a rather plain-looking, milky-colored dome attached to a wooden support, along with what looked like blades that reminded him of a windmill that was hung on its side. He’d never seen an oil or kerosene lamp like it. Perhaps it wasn’t even a lamp, but some ornate decoration.

He chuckled and shook his head. To think that he’d wanted to ruin his brother and the ranch at one time. Because of his misguided need for revenge, he’d ended up in the future. Meeting Morgan and her son had been the best thing that could have happened to him. Although he missed his simple life in 1872, there was much to like about modern times, too.