"The ones that found me?" I asked.
"Yes. They brought you to us last night."
"Do you know from what direction?" I asked quickly, heartbeat quickening.
"You were on their land." Nell shrugged. "Wait here. I'll fetch him."
"Shouldn't I thank them?"
Nell faced me, startled. I had the sense I had said something wrong without knowing what exactly.
"It would not be appropriate," Nell said finally. "Wait here, Miss Josie."
Bullshit. I waited for her to disappear out the door then followed, easing the heavy wooden door open and closed behind me. The scent of wood burning and horses reached me. My gaze swept over a corral with three horses, multiple barns of ranging sizes and a carriage parked nearby.
Nell hurried towards a tall, bearded man with a cane and a top hat who stood with two men wearing faded badges on their vests. Two Native Americans hung back from them.
I started towards the group, wanting to know from what direction they'd brought me and the distance, so I was able to find my way back. Whether or not it mattered, I wasn't certain. But I woke up in the past in that spot; it held some sort of significance. Maybe it was where Carter would pull me back to the future. At the very least, I wanted to grab a couple chunks of the moldavite before returning.
Pain shot through my head once more. I touched it with one hand, not wanting to stop and nurse it. Sunspots appeared, and I shook my head. The reminder of my involuntary brain surgery irked me. I hoped the chips did what Carter said they would. Not one to bear grudges, I decided the socially awkward man would benefit from a couple pieces of advice about how to kidnap and send people back in time.
My step slowed when one of the men noticed me. If his nose had been less crooked, his jaw straight and his bushy eyebrows trimmed, he might pass as rugged. But the combination, along with the amount of dirt on his exposed skin rendered him merely ugly. His eyes were brown, not the gorgeous green I had seen last night.
"Josie?" The slightly hoarse voice of the tall, bearded man drew my attention away from the scowling lawman. "It's really you!"
There was no sternness in the man's face. His age was hard to judge. His hair was pure white and the wrinkles around his eyes deep, but his eyes youthful and blue. I didn't think he was over fifty, though the hard living west of the Mississippi had aged him much faster. His face lit up like it was the best day of his life.