Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 15404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
But then, much to my relief, something in him seems to shift. He grunts his agreement, waving for me to get in, and the girl claps her hands together and scrambles back into the cart, offering me a hand.
"Here, let me help you up," she remarks. "I’m Lucy, by the way."
"Kim," I reply, slightly weakly. I’m still utterly baffled as to what’s going on here, but at least I’m not going to be stuck out in the middle of nowhere with no transport and no phone for the forseeable future.
Though I get the feeling, as the cart rumbles to life below me once more, that even if I did – getting out of this place might not be as simple as all that.
CHAPTER 1
Kim
As the cart finally pulls to a halt, I stare up at the house before me.
It looks like it could have been plucked straight from some historical drama from the nineteenth century about life out on the prairie – the uneven, sloping roof, the wooden door with the heavy iron knocker, the extensions that have clearly been tacked on by whoever’s been living here at any given moment.
If I had to guess, I’d say that it’s not exactly up to building regulations, but I sense that it doesn’t matter much to the people who live here.
We had to pass through a small town nearby to get to this house, and Lucy, in amongst her good-natured chatter, asked if there was anywhere I wanted to be dropped off. I was too gobsmacked to come out with anything in response – the town was pretty much a perfect historical reenactment, people bustling back and forth from a couple of small shops and chatting in the midst of a dirt road that served as the main street.
It seems like Lucy and Cade aren’t the only ones living their lives as though it’s another era entirely – no, everyone here is doing the exact same thing.
And that has me starting to worry. As in, starting to really worry. That this isn’t just some weird game that they’re playing, and that there might be more to this than I am willing to accept.
When I told Lucy that I had nowhere in particular to go, she had offered up a room in their house – told me that they weren’t using it anyway, and that it would do them good to have a little life in the place. I could have sworn that I saw Cade’s shoulders tense when he heard her say that, but he didn’t so much as turn around to look at me, as though willing this to be over sooner rather than later.
I don’t have much choice but to accept, really, so I went along with her offer, and now we’re at their place and I’m staring at the house as everything starts to click into place. My head spins. Whatever is going on here, it’s not as simple as some people playing at times past. No, there’s something far more serious going on, and I don’t know if I can make sense of it.
As Cade unpacks some of the packages from the back of the cart, I stand there, too stunned to move. Lucy makes her way to the door of the house and glances back at me, her eyebrow cocked.
"Is everything alright?"
I swallow hard. I don’t know how to put this into words without sounding completely and utterly insane. I feel as though they will think I’m crazy if I so much as breathe a word of what is on my mind right now, but I can’t just go along with this as though there is nothing off.
"Lucy," I murmur to her, as I close the distance between us quickly. "What...what year is it?"
Lucy doesn’t seem entirely surprised by the question – Cade brushes past us without a word, hefting a bag over his shoulder as he makes his way inside.
"It’s 1857," she replies, cocking her head to the side with clear intrigue. "Why?”
I glance down at my clothes – a little tee and a pair of shorts fit for a roadtrip, not for a fucking journey through time. My knees grow weak, and I have to lean against the door to keep from them giving out from under me entirely as I try to wrap my head around what she is saying to me.
"1857," I repeat after her, my voice weak, threatening to crack at any second. She nods once more.
"Yes..."
"Oh, my God..."
My hand flies to my mouth and tears prick my eyes as the sheer, unrelenting shock coursing through me so intensely it feels as though the ground might give out right under my feet. The blood drains from my face, and nausea twists in my stomach as Lucy stares back at me, her brows knitted together in a sympathetic expression.