West

I read it, struggling to understand what Carter was really saying. It wasn't possible for someone simply not to exist when he clearly did. I texted a quick note back, What the hell does that mean? hit send, and pocketed the cell once more.

"Josie?"

"I'm here," I said and took John's hand again. "Right beside you. The uh … preacher is here, too."

"Tell … Carter … thank you."

My breath stuck in my throat. "W … what?"

John smiled once more and squeezed my hand.

"Miss Josie, we are to do the ceremony at once," Nell said and took my arm.

"No, wait!" I tugged away.

"He has not more than an hour!" Nell hissed in my ear. "Do not disappoint him now, Miss Josie! I forbid it!"

How can John know Carter? I let my governess pull me away, silently willing John to stay alive long enough for me to ask him about Carter.

The preacher, Taylor, doctor, another well-dressed man I took to be the attorney, Judge Cromwell, and even a fiercely frowning Philip stood in the bedroom. The preacher's bible was open and Taylor was before him, too calm for me to read. I joined them and took my place beside Taylor, the sense of disconnect returning.

"Talk about a shotgun wedding," I muttered.

"You dragged me into this," Taylor whispered.

"Hush, Miss Josie, Sheriff!" my nanny hissed.

"Go sit by my father," I ordered her. "He shouldn't be alone right now."

Nell obeyed.

Taylor glanced at me with a look that expressed his bafflement at the impromptu wedding. The preacher began reading hastily with occasional glances towards the bed, as if to ensure John was still alive. I half-listened, too stunned by the evening to digest what was going on. I itched to ask John about Carter.

"… ring," the preacher said expectantly.

Taylor cleared his throat and shifted.

"This was her mother's. It is meant to be hers." Philip held out a massive ruby and gold ring to Taylor.

"Repeat after me, Sheriff," the preacher directed. "With this ring, I thee wed …"

Taylor mumbled the words. He took my hand and slid the ring onto my ring finger then met my gaze. In that moment, it was the two of us in the middle of the sacred rite I was nowhere near prepared for. The calm around him indicative of a man with no history and no existence buffered me against the onslaught of memories from those standing too close. Taylor took my hands, and I saw a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze, a sign he, too, wasn't quite ready for this occasion.

I experienced the disconnect once more, the sense I was watching myself go through the bizarre ceremony rather than living it. At one point, I murmured an I, do, and then Taylor leaned forward to give me an awkward, quick peck on the lips.