A Moment in Time Read Online Free PDF Page B

wallop.   "Name's Cole Morrison–did you say Gibson?"
           "George Clooney."  
           She looked up at him with wide gray eyes–pleading
    eyes–and he loosened his grip.  
           "George Clooney–the actor?" she repeated.
           "Actor?   Never had much call for their kind."   Cole flashed her a crooked grin, catching sight of a group from the Gold Mine Saloon hovering nearby.   "You with them?"   He aimed his thumb at the peculiar gathering.
           "Huh."   She rolled her eyes.   "Not hardly."   A look of confusion came over her face.   "Please help me."
           "I, uh..."   Cole studied her face, then glanced at Goodfellow and company again.   The whole lot of them reminded him of vultures.   Hungry ones.   "Well, I might.   That depends on what kind of help you need."
           She knitted her brow in obvious bewilderment.   "First, just tell me where I am."
           "You don't know?"
           She shook her head.   "Please?   Where am I?"   Her expression revealed the seriousness of her question.   " Please? "
           He studied her for a few seconds, wondering who she was and how she'd ended up here without knowing where she was.   "This is Devil's Gulch, Colorado, ma'am.   Where'd you think you were?"
           Obviously taken aback, she blinked several times and covered her face with both hands.   "The script," she said quietly, dragging her fingers down her face until the red inner rims of her eyes glared back at him.
           "Script?"   What in blazes was she talking about?
           "That painting, the saloon, Devil's Gulch..."   She laughed, though it sounded more like a sob or a crazy person's laugh.   "My God, I must be asleep and dreaming that stupid, frigging script, and I don't even know how it ends."
           Cole rubbed his chin with thumb and forefinger, contemplating this curious creature.   Wearing men's jeans and a stretchy shirt unlike anything he'd ever seen before, she looked like an unkempt boy who needed to visit the barber in a bad way.   Elizabeth would've had Cole's balls on a hot tin plate if he'd ever allowed their son to appear in public looking like that.  
           Of course, he knew without a doubt that this was no boy.   Granted, he was surprised as heck to find his hands filled with womanly softness when he'd hauled her out of the road.   In passing, he never would've guessed, but touching her was another matter entirely.   Not an unpleasant matter by any means.
           Upon closer inspection, she wasn't as young as he'd originally thought either.   And Lord knew he'd never seen hair that color.   It couldn't be real–it was even brighter than his newest pair of red flannels.
           She looked at him again with those wide eyes of hers.   There was something disturbing about her and her eyes–something that almost made him feel things he wasn't able to anymore.  
           "Where's the nearest bus station or airport?"   She grabbed his forearm and held on tight.   "A police station?   A phone?   Yes, that's what I need first.   Please get me to a phone and I'll call someone–anyone but Aunt Pearl."
           Bus?   Airport?   Phone?   Shaking his head, Cole decided she needed more help than he was able to offer.   Rupert Goodfellow stepped forward and inclined his head toward the woman.
           "We've had enough excitement now.   I think we'd best get you upstairs where you can rest," the saloon-keeper said.   The look he flashed Cole held a warning.
           Cole stared long and hard at Goodfellow's eyes.   The runt was up to something–something involving this strange woman.   It went against his grain to accommodate the man.   Besides, if there was one thing Cole hated, it was being threatened.
           "I'm not going anywhere with you," the woman said, sidling closer to Cole.   "God, if I didn't know