Timeless Honor: Ramseys in Time, #1

Prologue

"Emma! Maggie! Where are you? I promise I won’t kick your asses if you answer me right now," Jaye Ramsey punctuated the last two words with a bite and barely restrained herself from stomping her foot. Her heart pounded so loud that her ears buzzed as she spun left and right in the middle of the dry, vast wonderland, trying to catch a glimpse of her missing friends.

The magnificent salt flats of the Salar de Uyuni, one of Bolivia’s most treasured tourist destinations, spread for miles around her in a sea of blue with pillars of salt blotching the landscape. The bright July sun escaped a shield of clouds, nearly blinding her. Though it was summer back home in the States, winter had taken hold south of the equator. A light, cool breeze teased strands of her hair across her face as icy tendrils of fear pierced her soul.

Her friends were in trouble, but where were they? None of the salt pillars were big enough to conceal a grown woman. A child, maybe, but not an adult.

Laughter carried on the breeze.

Jaye whipped around, her pulse leaping. Please, please let that be them. Squinting against the sunlight that reflected off a patch of white, she sighed and shook her head.

Strangers were up ahead, reveling in the sunshine.

How fortunate those people were. Just an hour earlier, Jaye had been hanging out with her four best girls, and now, she was running across the flats in a desperate search for two of them.

I gotta call the police. She cringed at the idea. As an American on vacation in Bolivia, she didn’t know the first thing about getting help from the authorities in a foreign country. Should she contact the US Embassy? Crap. She didn’t have any of those phone numbers.

Her tour guide probably did.

The previous day, Jaye and her friends had arrived in Bolivia and, that morning, set out on a three-day Jeep tour to see the flats. After Emma wandered off, Jaye and her friends, along with their native guide, locked the GPS location of the Jeep rental into their cells and then split up to broaden their search area.

She had to meet them back at the Jeep soon.

Relax. Don’t panic. She hit redial, and again, Emma’s singsong voice blasted from the voicemail recording. The beep echoed.

Damn it, Emma. This isn’t funny, Jaye snapped into the phone. It was your idea we come to Bolivia, so you can’t up and disappear. Maggie’s searching for you, too, but she stopped answering her cell. Have you seen her? You guys are scaring the bejesus out of me. A shudder racked her chest. She swallowed hard and softened her voice. Please, call me. Where are you? She disconnected the call and braced the cell against her forehead. Her stomach heaved.

After leaving what had to be her fifth or sixth message on Maggie’s cell as well, she texted her other two friends. Juliet responded first, then Zoe, but neither had heard from or found any trace of the missing women.

Okay, okay. Think. What could’ve happened to them? Jaye paced a mad track, and countless salty granules crunched beneath her heavy boots. Scenario after crazy scenario rushed through her mind, everything from a practical joke to kidnapping and human trafficking. Deep in her heart, she knew it was bull. If something insane and horrible was going to happen in the flats—and, damn it, that seemed like the case—Jaye knew what it was. At least, what her grandmother would claim.

Time travel. Like freakin’ Star Trek time travel.

Jaye braced her feet and slammed her eyelids shut. No. Don’t go there.

She loved her grandma dearly, but the woman had a few screws loose.

Refusing to give the possibility of traveling through time and space any merit, she stuffed her phone into her purse and buttoned up her denim jacket. Pain clenched her chest. She never should’ve left the safety of her home and family back in Seattle, Washington. Then again, her friends would’ve vacationed without her and still gotten lost. Someone had to find them. Might as well be her.

She stalked deeper through the flats, and an inch or so of rainfall sloshed around her boots. Puffy gray clouds streaked across the sun, and the beautiful sky reflected off the rain-covered earth like in a mirror.

Countless prehistoric lakes had dried out several millennia earlier to form the Salar de Uyuni, and the earth’s salty crust covered a pool of lithium-rich brine for over four thousand square miles. Considered the world’s largest mirror, scientists used the flats to calibrate satellites in space.

Oh, God. Of all the times for a history lesson. Was she losing her mind? She just needed something to focus on, so of course, her librarian self had dredged up that information from the book she’d read on the plane. Sue her.

Her grandmother’s warning echoed in her mind: Never go off alone, Jaye. You might vanish. Leave it to the eccentric Leonora Harris Ramsey to foresee the future, at least in Emma’s and Maggie’s case. Grandma Leonora had begged Jaye and her friends to go anywhere except Bolivia, but Jaye needed to prove to the older woman that time travel was only a plot device in books, movies, and TV shows.

What if her grandmother was right? What if magic and time portals were real?

If so, then all the stories Leonora had told Jaye were true—Leonora was born in the eighteenth century and time-traveled to 1960s Bolivia as a young woman via a portal in the flats.

The same flats Jaye now walked.

A tremor coursed through her. Emma! Maggie! she shouted through her cupped hands to funnel the sound. Panic threatened to set in. Dry heaves racked her body.

Thunder blasted in the near distance, and she jumped. Vibrant shades of orange and red streaked the afternoon sky as puffy dark clouds doubled in size. A nippy breeze lifted her hair off her shoulders and pimpled her skin. The wet earth mirrored the sky. If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear she was walking through crimson clouds.

Ready to return to the Jeep, Jaye ducked her head to shield herself from a sudden gust of cold air. A muddy puddle materialized from nowhere on the ground mere feet away. The dark water swirled counter-clockwise and increased in speed with every rotation. Thick bands of brown smoke cloaked the liquid until only the smoke remained. Her legs weakened, and she collapsed onto her knees. She gripped the cold, wet earth and narrowed her eyes as the smoke thinned. Spots of light flickered through the shadowy depths.

Is that a cave? Jaye shot to her feet. The wind whipped at her back. The swirling vortex churned faster as though to welcome her with open arms. As she slipped on the rainwater, a scream caught in her throat. The earth disappeared beneath her and swallowed her whole. Darkness surrounded her. She fell down the deep, dark hole and blacked out.

Chapter One

Wake up. A rough hand shook Jaye’s shoulder. You need to eat.

Jaye curled in the fetal position and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. The man’s incessant voice seeped through the fog in her brain as she buried her face into a lumpy pillow. I’m not hungry. Her empty stomach grumbled a protest. She dragged the warm blanket higher up her body. Come back later.

The stranger jerked the blanket away from her.

What the— She sprang upright in the hard bed and clasped her pounding chest. Chills shot down her spine. A hint of smoke and the aroma of herbs stung her nostrils. She blinked up rapidly at a tall, broad-shouldered man. The bands of firelight and shadow flickering off him hurt her eyes as he tossed the blanket back on the bed and stepped back. The heat of his gaze bore into her skull like a fine-precision laser.

Where am I? What happened? She dragged in a shaky breath and rubbed away the crud from her eyelids. How long have I been asleep?

He cocked his eyebrow. A muscle ticked in his whiskered cheek as he crossed his arms over his chest. His plain linen shirt and worn waistcoat strained against his frame.

Not much of a talker, huh? Jaye winced. The last thing she wanted to do was piss off the man, though she’d likely already done so given his scowl and the braced stance of his feet. Was he into cosplay? Dried mud caked his old-fashioned buckle shoes. Dingy white stockings clung to his well-defined calves, and a strand of ribbon tied off his breeches right below his knees. His wild mane of dark, curly hair reached his shoulders and tempted her to run her fingers through it. Oh, God. Where did that thought come from? He could be a psychopath, a deranged rapist or murderer who imprisoned women and forced them to enact some historical play before he sliced their throats.

Cool it with the imagination, girl. She gripped the coarse, twisted bed sheet to hide her trembling hands. Breathe, relax, concentrate. She silently repeated the mantra and cast her gaze at the stone-slab walls of the small room. Or rather, a one-room cabin. This was likely the same cabin she’d found earlier. Two windows shuttered from the outside framed the large planked door, and a thick piece of wood bolted the door shut, trapping her in with the stranger.

Nausea swept through her. If things got hairy, would she have enough time to shove the wooden lock back and escape outside before he could hurt her?

Warmth billowed from the burning logs in the cobblestone fireplace and slicked her skin with sweat. The delicious scent of bubbling stew wafted from inside the cast-iron pot that hung on a metal hook in the hearth. The antique clock on the slab mantel ticked toward ten o’clock, but whether it was morning or night, she had no idea. A half-dozen knives, a few metal containers, and a shiny rifle—a flintlock rifle, if she remembered her history on firearms correctly—gleamed on the table across from the fireplace. Her stomach lurched. Things could get hairy real quick.

He stepped forward.

Whoa! Hold up. She scooted back on the twin bed so fast she hit the wall. The impact jarred her teeth.

His lips firmed in a mulish line, but he glued his feet to the rug.

She breathed a little easier. Answer me already. Where am I? Who are you?

You’re at my hunting lodge. I’m the man who found you.

A gravely note roughened his English-accented voice as though he didn’t speak often. Jaye waved her hand in the air for him to elaborate, but instead, he cocked his eyebrow again as though he didn’t know what to make of her.

The feeling’s mutual, buddy. She cleared her throat. My name is Jaye Ramsey. I’m not from around here. She folded her legs beneath her bottom and tugged on the hem of her turtleneck sweater. Someone, likely her moody host, had removed her boots and jacket. Why? So she’d be more comfortable? That courtesy didn’t fit the man if his current ill-temper was any indication. Where exactly is this place?

His forehead creased. Hawksatter.

Hawksatter. Okay. Am I supposed to know where that is?

A long sigh whizzed through his teeth. You certainly should. You traveled here. He nodded at the trunk at the end of the bed. Her jacket, boots, and purse sat atop the lid. Your clothes are unusual and far too warm for this time of year. Where is your father or husband? Did you lose your horse? Who are you traveling with?

Her temples throbbed with a headache. My clothes are perfect for winter. My father is dead, and I’m not married. I don’t have a horse. I’m on vacation with my girlfriends. She held up her left hand to show him she didn’t wear a ring. Besides, you’re one to talk. You look like you stepped out of an old oil painting of the English countryside.

I do not appreciate games. Where are you from, and what brings you here? I don’t tolerate trespassers.

Don’t get uppity with me. Jaye launched to her feet. Her head swayed, and she fell back on the bed.

The stranger chuckled.

Heat flushed her face. All sense of self-preservation fled. She hurried back up and poked her finger against his chest—hard. This isn’t my fault, you pompous ass. I woke up on a cold cave floor, wandered through a forest half out of my mind for hours, and then found this cabin. I have no idea how I got here. Not a lie, not the truth either. She wasn’t sure if she knew the truth. I needed shelter, but someone, I presume you, reinforced the shutters from the inside. I couldn’t pry them open.

His eyes narrowed to thin slits.

Jaye cursed herself for adding that last part. I’m sorry for trying to break in, but I was frazzled. Still am. Anyway, I waited by the stoop for the owner to come home, and I must’ve fallen asleep. You could’ve left me outside to rot since you don’t like trespassers—I think of myself as an unwelcome visitor, by the way—but you did the right thing. Now we have to deal with the consequences. She dropped her gaze to his clenched meat hooks. He could probably pack a hard wallop with those roughhewn hands.

We started off on the wrong foot. Jaye swallowed hard to soften her voice. I’m lost. I didn’t travel here to Hawksatter on purpose. I’m on vacation with a few friends, but two of them strayed from the group, and now I’m lost as well. I don’t know what happened, but I need help. If you knew me, you’d know I’d rather eat dirt than ask someone for help. Especially big gruff men like you who could probably break me with his bare hands. She shivered. Is there someone else I could speak with? A woman, perhaps?

No, but I’ll escort you to town on the morrow. His lips twitched on one side. I’m Lucas Kenway, third Baron Hawksatter. Guests are a rarity in my home, so my manners are rusty. If you wish, I will assist you in finding your—um—girlfriends and restore you to your holiday.

You’re a nobleman? We’re not in Bolivia, are we?

I’ve never heard of such a place. We’re in England.

Tears burned in her eyes, and her strong façade crumbled. I’m dreaming. I fell down a rabbit hole and hit my head. Now I’m in the middle of a strange, vivid dream. A wonderland, like Alice. Yeah, that explains it.

I assure you, madam, this is no dream. Who is Alice?

A hysterical laugh crawled up her throat. Madam? Why are you so proper and polite all of a sudden? Call me Jaye. She stomped to the trunk, pulled her phone from her purse, and held it up in every corner of the room for a signal. Lucas’s eyebrows arched to his hairline as she climbed onto the table beside the rifle and stretched her arm toward the exposed ceiling beams. No signal. Damn. She hopped back down and opened a browser. The page wouldn’t load. C’mon. The GPS will work. It’s gotta. She tapped the screen a few more times and cursed.

The Location Not Found/No Satellite Access window popped up.

Breathe, Jaye, she told herself. Bile rose in her throat, and she gulped the bitterness down. After powering off the phone to save the battery, she stuffed it back into her purse. "This is one messed-up dream. Real men like you aren’t this hot, even if you