The sheriff returned less than an hour later, accompanied by Nell and an elderly stranger with a beard that reached mid-chest.
Taylor released me. Nell gave him a long, indecipherable look, while I debated what to say since we weren't alone to discuss this mess.
"Miss Jackson," the bearded man held out his hand. "I'm Judge Cromwell. I am finalizing your wedding papers." He unfolded a set of documents with different sized papers. "If you can make your mark here." He pointed. "It's acknowledgment that you are aware of the changes to your status and your inheritance."
I hesitated too long, wanting to stall, to talk to the sheriff outside before I committed to anything.
"Ah. I had thought you knew how to write," the judge said. "Understandable that you do not. Your husband-to-be can -"
Taylor started forward.
"Oh, I can write," I said. Not that this will matter in a week, I reminded myself.
The chant was becoming harder for me to believe when I had no control over this world. I took the fountain pen from the judge and signed my name. John's signature, along with Taylor's scrawled name, were already present. "Is that it?"
"It is. I'll file these immediately. Congratulations to both of you."
He was the only one smiling. Oblivious to the moods of those around him, he replaced his hat on top of his head and left.
"We need to talk," I said to Taylor.
"At a later time, Miss Josie," he replied politely.
"Come, Miss Josie. We need to return to your father," Nell said. "But not before I have a word with the sheriff."
I wanted to object but sighed and left instead. The sheriff appeared as happy as Nell about the situation. My desperation to change history and leave was growing. I pulled out my phone and shielded it from public view behind a hand fan to read Carter's latest message.
It only malfunctions with one person? He had written. In that case, it's not the chip. Whoever this person is, he doesn't - or shouldn't - exist. Who is it? I can do some research.
I paused mid-step and reread the message. Turning to face the sheriff's office, I frowned and studied him. He was in the doorway, quietly talking to Nell.
He definitely existed. I had felt the solid heat of his frame against mine last night. He had a full history with the townspeople and Native Americans. Everyone knew him and that he'd been raised here.
And fell from the sky.
I had no idea what to think. Turning my focus back to the cell, I texted then hastily stashed it in a pocket before Nell saw it.