Ben Wade

If you asked me today, just asked outright, I'd never give an answer for why I stopped wanting to win on my own terms and chose to let Dan Evans win on his. I've heard a comment or two among the people here. They like to conjecture. They even sometimes think they know.

I prefer to believe in the randomness of it. His yearning to have his son's respect hit me just as I'd resigned myself to walking back into the life I led before Bisbee.

Maybe it really was a product of my own boredom.

After 22 robberies of Pinkerton transports with that same gang, there wasn't a lot of challenge left with those animals. They had certain abilities, certain cravings. There was no way they were meant for more than the type of crime I'd taught them to handle under my leadership. Not as a group, anyway. Some just were starting to think they were.

Most wanted nothing but me doing the thinking, them doing the bitching. Two were looking to take over.  And then there was Charlie Prince, who was giving too many longing glances, as if he'd bought into the lie I was worth his worship. What had started out so promising with Charlie as second-in-command was taking its familiar road to clinging dependence on me. I was never anyone's hero.

I'm still not.

Oh, granted, this time brings new challenges, the likes of which I'd never have imagined back in that old time. But human nature is something a man can count on. So while I see a gang I've outgrown, they believe I've promised them an easy forever. Franki's thinking she's meant for independence from me without taking into account I still have use of her until I say I'm done with this gang. Antonio, like Charlie of old, trails me now, watching and knowing without admitting it to himself that I'm not sticking around. He's growing bitter I'm not as dependent on him as he is on me. He'll soon come to think maybe there's something he can do to keep me from walking away. I've seen this happen often enough to recognize it take shape.

I've warned Colin. Antonio isn't missing the fact Colin's doing things for me that Antonio expects he's earned the right to do. He's followed us after the last two jobs; he now knows it's Colin I'm entrusting to help with Sergei "the fence." That puts Colin in danger; Antonio will try to remove his "rival." The normal pattern will then be for Antonio to first become more my slave, my pet. When he sees that isn't working, he'll turn traitor. His ability to hurt me will be greater than any enemy. He's studied me and my patterns. I learned this lesson the hard way once - before I knew Charlie.

Charlie Prince, if he'd lived, would have turned on me before long. It would have been all he had in reserve - a way to keep me close to him or pay for the distance I'd put between us as I moved into another phase of my life.

Human nature.

Just as Charlie took out Dan Evans, removing him as a rival for my attentions, so too would Antonio harm Colin if the opportunity presents.

It's ironic: if Antonio was as smart as Charlie Prince, it's not Colin he'd focus on. It's the woman. Charlie would've picked up on that; Antonio hasn't. Yeah, this time it's the lady who just may move me to finally commit to a different future than my gang wants for me.

That's not to say it's love. Not in the way you'd imagine. No, it's fascination she holds. Her ability to so avidly not need anything from me. She looks me right in the eyes, finds something inside there she respects, and manages to not let me dominate her choices. Like Dan, it's that she's making the choice to not take the easy way I offer that makes me move in for an even closer look.

Add in her class and grace? It doesn't hurt, I admit, that she's wrapped inside a body with lush breasts, soft lips and a bottom that gives me ideas that make her blush. A man is a man, after all. We like them this way.

 She walks away from me now as I contemplate this new state of affairs. We're lovers and conspirators. All well and good. Yet the plan for returning to my home time now nears a new danger point. From what Cullen Murphy tells me, his court date with his wife looms with ominous tidings for Uma. My own needs are for Uma to not be seen as the victim, a sure outcome if Cullen is too vicious. Instead, what I most need is for the revelations made inside that Courtroom to get the others to turn away from her. She must be weakened, left with a tattered reputation, her spirit broken, and lose all shelter from the members of this group. For sure, Max Skinner must turn his back so she finds no comfort there. In particular, the ties between Uma and Ann must be destroyed for I believe they contribute to Uma's unworldly power. Uma must be, as much as possible, utterly alone.

Only then will she be vulnerable. Then I stand a chance. Her power must be diminished; her hold on us poor souls drawn here against our wills must be dissolved.

Just as we may now step through the special books in Ann's shop, this will be our slim and temporary chance to step back through the special DVDs through which we were drawn. Thus, my plan unfolds.

I must be ready for my own return. So far, I've amassed a healthy fortune for this time. When I take it back with me to my time, that fortune will be magnified many fold. One more large take is on the horizon. I must convert all the cash to something more portable, like gold or silver, before the Murphy trial. Then I'm ready.

Ann turns to look at me before she gets into her car, parked in the back lot of a local wine bar where we met last night. The intense light of a streetlamp behind her runs through her dress, outlining her form. I'm not close enough to see how they must also surely glint off the crystal and diamond earrings I gave her. I made her take them off tonight before I loved her. It made me uneasy to see them on her while I touched her in lust.

Too clear a reminder of the earring's ties to my mother who threw me on the ash heap of Arizona and then found some rich banker who gave her a wealthy life in Boston. She never suffered for abandoning me. Her two new sons never knew me. The first time I saw her after going through that book from Ann, I was just having a look around. My mother was wearing those earrings. Her hair was up, her dress was deep green. She was stepping up into a carriage, some old gent at her elbow looking bored and stiff. As the carriage went past me, my mother smiled at me - the kind of smile I know from other women. She wasn't much older than I am now. I tipped my hat at her; she blushed in response, caught with impure thoughts about the stranger before her.

Those earrings were among the things I most wanted to take from her house when I went back to rob it. A personal if anonymous revenge on her. The Bible teaches, does it not, that only a shameless woman would ever leave her son? Ecclesiastics also reminds us that a shameless woman is counted as a dog.

Giving the earrings to my lover should have rinsed them of the stain of my mother's greed. It hasn't worked out so neatly.

I wait for Ann to drive away before I go. Want to be sure she's safely gone from this lot with no drunks pestering her. The evening before, she'd arrived before me. When I entered the tavern, a man hovered over her as she sat on a stool at the bar. He'd been offering to buy her a drink. How many times had I seen this in how many saloons in two different time periods? A man can read the scene with just a glance.

"No. Honestly. I'm not interested." I could hear the cold annoyance clear in her voice as I neared them.

"Now, honey, I'm just trying to be friendly. What'd it hurt to just let me buy a pretty lady a drink?"

"I'm waiting on a friend. I'd like you to leave me in peace until he gets here." She flashed him a warning look. Then noticed me nearby just as I put a hand softly on the bar top, motioning for the barkeep with the other.

I turned slowly to regard her and her new admirer. She must have wondered what I'd do. Would I snap? Would I hit him? Would I just look him off? She crossed her legs, licked her lips. Her hands smoothed the short skirt down over her thighs. He leaned in a bit further, oblivious to anything but the need to keep her attention on him.

"What kind of man leaves a woman like you alone in a bar? You know what I'm saying?" The admirer smirked from her eyes to her cleavage and then grinned at me as if I was in on his judgment.

My teeth ground together, ever so slightly. "Why, I sure do know what you're saying," I told him, keeping my voice soft as I let my face harden. "You meant that as a challenge to me. That's what you were saying."

Ann cleared her throat but she didn't interfere. The admirer said, "Oh. I see. You two together, then?"

The bartender also cleared his throat. Without looking at him, I ordered a whisky, neat. To the admirer, I smiled and said, "I'm doing my best to be patient. Believe you owe the lady an apology for your behavior?"

"Uh. Yeah. Okay. Gotcha. Sorry, miss." The admirer mumbled it all out as he was backing away from me, his hands up. "No need for anything else to be said."

"Or done," Ann muttered, under her breath, as I slid onto the stool next to her and leaned in to kiss her cheek while watching the admirer back further away. "That was good timing, Ben Wade. Another minute and I'd have had to get nasty with the jerk."

"You want me to go work him over, ma'am? That apology not good enough to restore your honor?"

She chuckled, a low amused sound she seems to reserve for me. "You know you're sexy when you're like this?"

"Is that a 'yes'?"

"That's a "hell no" and you know it." Her hand stroked the top of my thigh; she leaned in against me as she reached for the glass of wine the bartender brought her along with my glass of whisky. "You smell so good tonight, Ben. Maybe it's the testosterone you just whipped out? I don't know how long I can last against its onslaught before I have to do something about the way it makes me want you."

She was wearing a shirt with a deep "v" down the front. The rise of her breasts was visible. The valley between them was shadowed before it disappeared from my sight. I wanted to make a big drop of her sweat run there. Right then, I made a pledge - whatever it took that night, I'd make that happen. Then I'd lick it up just to savor what I could make her do for me.

"You'll last until I say." Our eyes met. I pictured her legs around my waist, the feel of being buried between them. "We're going for a drive, by the way. You hungry?"

"Yes. Famished."

"I meant for dinner."

"Oh. Well, that, too."

Turning the car sharply to the left as I leave the bar's parking lot, I drive toward the mountains, sunrise not even yet a promise. Colin meets me at our normal place near his apartment. Once I'm in the van he's found for this job, we head for Monterey, turning into the Highlands near the fairground. The fine homes up there will be the cover I need to make this new haul plausible. Even Colin can't know I'm using the books. The need for secrecy on this is paramount. It's the one sin Ann would take personally. It'd also do no one any good if Colin got the bright idea to take off on his own into a few of the books. He'd blow it all.

"Friend of yours came by the shop today." Colin says this slow, like he's just now remembered it. 

I turn to him, knowing he'd not say it if it didn't have something to do with what we're doing tonight. "Name?"

"Antonio Ramos."

"Yeah? What'd he want with you?"

He shrugs, gives me an insolent frown. "Said you told him I could get him wheels no one'd trace. Told him to fuck right off."

I can't help but grin. Colin has a style; it may not be much of one, but it's his. "That's all right then."

"You sent him?" His eyes flick away and then back. He already knows the answer, I figure.

"He's the one I warned you about, smart boy."

"You never said his name."

"Apparently, I didn't have to. Leave it to you, Colin, to know the boy wasn't coming on my behalf. Now that you've met him, steer clear if you see him coming again." I flick on the small flashlight so I can look at the map in my lap again. "Turn right next road. Then we find the alley."

After he parks just past the service alley that runs behind two long blocks of fancy homes, we sit for long minutes listening for sounds that don't belong. A dog barks. A car pulls up on a street nearby, the engine's shut off, the door's opened and shut. A man wearing a shirt with reflective stripes jogs through the intersection about a half block beyond us. Another car, maybe a block over but out of sight, drives slowly away from where we sit waiting.

"I'm going around the corner there. Second house on the left side. You hear anything or I call you, just back into the alley and I'll be running for you."

"Got it, boss."

"Don't call me boss, Colin. This isn't a permanent arrangement between us. Before long, we'll have outlived our ability to do these thefts in these parts. Best we don't forget that."

"Whatever you say..." I look at him as I ease the door open. He's breathing shallow, like he always does when one of these jobs start. "...Wade."

"I may be a while."

"I'll be here."

After I turn the corner, I pass the first house then walk toward the space between it and the second home. The thick grass cushions my feet as I move into a shadow next to one of the homes. How is this stretch of lawn kept so perfect, each blade just so? A subtle footfall makes me look back toward the street. Nothing. I edge back to the front of the home and peer the way I came. Nothing.

I wait but whoever is out there is also still. Colin must have gotten out of the van. Maybe thought to watch me, curious enough to break our routine. Colin must feel me waiting on him to move first. A few more minutes go by. I can't wait longer for him to make the mistake. I have to start this job; we don't have that long before the sun will rise.

Walking between the houses, I move to the rear of the one on the corner. I've circled back so I'm now close to the alley. This is where I've planned to go into the book. Not only can Colin not see what I'm up to here, but I can bring items through and have only a short walk to the van, lessening the chance of anyone witnessing me lugging my load of stolen goods.

I lean out just enough to see the van. Colin is sitting behind the wheel, staring straight ahead. He must have thought better of his nosy idea to follow me. I open the book to the proper page, picture myself where I want to go and then I'm inside the vault of a New York jeweler who thought it impenetrable when he built it back in 1864.

Confident in this locked vault, the jeweler has his wares stored inside it in unlocked drawers built into shelves along three walls. I begin loading loose diamonds along with a few emeralds and rubies into a black cloth bag I've brought with me. I fill another bag with coins, already old and valuable in this time - sure to be that much more valuable in 2008 when I return. The last bag, I fill with necklaces, earrings, pins - Sergei will think they are the most exquisitely preserved examples of the latest styles from 1865.

Together, the three bags are almost more than I can carry by myself. When I step through from the book into 2008, I nearly drop one of them before I'm able to set them all down onto the lawn. A noise like a hushed moan makes me draw my gun and move sideways until my back is against the corner house. I stay still, intently aware of an unnamed danger that doesn't smell like Colin O'Brien.

Whoever is out there eventually makes a move. Someone is running down the alley, away from the van. I step out from the shadow to look. He passes the porch light about three houses down and never looks back as he rounds the far corner, where I lose sight of him.

But I know just who it is.

Swiftly, I grab the three heavy bags after sticking my gun back into my belt. At the van, Colin waits while I sling them in the back before he turns the engine over. The instant I slip into the passenger seat, he moves us neatly down the road.

"Head for San Francisco," I tell him when we exit onto the main highway.

"No way's Sergei gonna be open when we get there." Colin's voice is edged with tension. 

"I'll treat you to breakfast while we wait on him."

"Something happen?" 

I'm looking in the side mirror, watching headlights behind us, checking for evidence we're being followed. "You tell anyone about tonight?"

"No bloody way."

"You made sure we weren't followed?" Now I turn and watch him.

He swallows, looks in the rear view mirrors, then glares at me. "No one fucking followed us. Just say what you're bloody trying to say."

"Someone saw me coming out of the ... out of the house. He ran away, down the alley, before I could get him."

Colin blinks as he concentrates on his driving. I can almost hear the gears in his brain. "No one followed us there. Must've just been someone walking by."

"Sure. You must be right." 

I don't mind that he reacts to the threat I've laced into my voice. I don't need to tell him he's dead if he's fucked me up on this one. The only way a man survives the life I lead is to trust no one. And to be ruthless when his life demands it.

"Two nights in a row? I wasn't expecting you."

Ann looks beyond me, into the darkness, worried that anyone would see me here at her door. I put a hand on her hip, shift her back, moving into her body, shutting the door behind us with my other hand as I cover her mouth with mine, seeking the taste of her tongue.

"Ben..." The sound of her voice, whispering my name like that, makes me hard and needy to be buried inside her. "Oh, Ben..."

"Turn around."

Her nightie's peach satin. One thin strap has fallen off her shoulders. I pull the other one down when she turns. Then skim the nightie over her ripe bottom before letting it go. Then it's nothing but a circle of froth at her ankles. She steps out of it, walking toward her couch, looking at me only when she leans against its back edge to wait on me. She spreads her thighs wide when I reach her. My zipper's down before I can think this through.

After, I sit on the floor in front of her couch, my back to her as she lies atop its cushions, sleeping.

The Murphy trial cannot come soon enough. The longer this takes now, the more risk I run that someone will endanger the plan. Today should have been simple. Instead, I was left exposed to the dangers of a moron moving more swiftly than I anticipated.

I can still see Antonio cowering before me little more than an hour ago. I see his eyes, riveted on the gun I aimed at his heart. I hear his frightened curse, and later, his words distorted and twisted. Swear to God, he kept repeating. He swore all right. But it wouldn't be long before his oath paled in comparison to his greed and anger. Unless I do something or leave this place before it has time to happen.

Time is not my ally anymore.

This idea makes me smile. Time as an ally to a man imprisoned away from the only time he wants to exist in? Uma'd find that amusing. Some day, though, she'll understand she deserved what I'm doing to her.

So Antonio got a bit too smart for his own good today? I knew he'd already followed us to Sergei in the past. He must have got curious after somehow hearing about us supplying the Russian. Makes sense. He and Franki had to know the same people in those circles since they been together so long. He'd hear things through whatever grapevine they shared. I already know Franki wouldn't have told him. The girl's not only too smart for that but she's got her mind on other things lately - namely hiding from me that she's taken up with the cop Bud White.

Sergei might've even put out the word, trying to find out more about me than I was ever willing to share with him. Again, he'd know Franki'd never talk. Antonio wouldn't have done anything yet if he heard Sergei was paying for information on me - not since he still considered me his boss, his leader, his special ticket to wealth he'd never dared dream of before me. But it would've made him curious to find out what I was up to away from his sight. He'll figure out eventually it's how he could pay me back when the time comes he decides to become the traitor.

What I didn't know that morning as we were driving to San Francisco was exactly how Antonio had followed us to the job in Monterey. I already knew he wasn't happy finding out he had a rival in Colin for his position in the gang. He'd used means I would never have known existed to try to neutralize that threat. When he did follow us, he ended up seeing more than he expected.

I was pretty sure I knew where he went after he ran out of that alley. He could wait - he was too scared at that point to do much more than hope I hadn't recognized him.

In San Francisco, while I went in to meet with Sergei, Colin stayed in the van to guard the things I left in there from the job we'd pulled. I showed Sergei a sample of the coins, stones and jewelry. He promised to come back to me with a price after checking out his market. I would hold the bulk of the goods until we agreed on a price, as usual. He never suspected they were in the van with Colin.

After we left San Francisco, Colin drove to my car. Once he was gone, I organized the goods in each bag into neat little bundles then stuffed them securely into two heavy leather satchels. At the bank in Soledad, I stashed everything in the safety of the three boxes I rented there. Then I went to the safe house to find Antonio, alone, trying to act casual. I could smell his fear when I walked in.

I should have killed him and been done with it. I click my tongue over my choice; letting him live was forced on me by circumstances. There was too much to lose right now if his death brought the law down on me when I was so close to going home. Not to mention Franki - she may get annoyed with the boys, but she's strangely loyal to them. She may do something reckless if Antonio disappeared and she thought I was behind it. Besides, what does Antonio really know? He doesn't believe what he saw - me walking out of thin air carrying three heavy bags of loot. Even though he was part of the group the first few times I did this new kind of robbery, he had no reason to believe those were anything but what I said they were. All he saw then were the things I brought back that he had to help load into the van. He never saw me come or go into the books - not until last night's job.

Antonio's regret today is for getting too smart, too envious. It's for crossing me. It's for not being strong enough to stand up to me.

He'd slipped some kind of tracking device into the pocket of Colin's jacket, he finally admitted to me. He'd done that just yesterday morning when he'd gone to visit O'Brien at the garage. Then he'd waited until he could see the coordinates put Colin somewhere he shouldn't be unless we were up to something Antonio wanted to know about. He'd not even thought about what he'd do with that knowledge. Me? I knew just what would have eventually occurred to him to do. He would've turned traitor.

I close my eyes. If my timing works on this plan, I'll be gone before that can happen. 

"What's wrong, Ben?" Her hand is cool as it slides along the side of my neck. "Have a bad dream? You wanna come up here next to me and let me hold you?"

I look up into Ann's eyes as she sits up, moving to the edge of the couch. She begins to massage my shoulders and upper back. Her legs straddle me from behind; I can feel their warmth, smell my seed's scent there. I close my eyes and lean back against her naked breasts, letting her hands work my muscles. "Just restless, honey. That's all."

"Mmm? I must not have been very good, then, if you've still got enough energy to be restless." Her mouth is against my ear as she chuckles. She skims her hands to the front of my body now, moving over my chest, loosening the buttons of my shirt.

I say nothing as she touches me. What must I look like, sprawled here before her, legs bare and splayed, still wearing my shirt and jacket, hands on my knees, head lolling back into her softness?

"Wow." She stops moving, draws in a sharp breath. "Is that blood?"

"Where?"

"Are you hurt? How'd you do that to your hand?"

"It's nothing. Just a little hard work."

"Ben, you're bleeding."

"Not anymore."

It must dawn on her the instant she lifts my hand to look at the dried and fresh blood along my knuckles. I can tell by her silence. By the emptiness left in the wake of her body shifting away from mine.

I rise from where I've sat in contemplation. She scoots away from me on the couch even as I slip my arms under her. She won't look at me as I carry her to her bed. She says nothing as I go to the bathroom to wash my hands. The knuckles are sore but the blood is mostly not my own so it washes off without that much effort. I look at my reflection in her mirror. Dark eyes look back.

"Was this why you were that way with me just now?" She stands in the doorway, nude, looking at my face in the mirror.

"I needed you tonight."

"You can't come here after you've done something bad, Ben. You just can't."

"Even if I need you?" My voice is a whisper so soft it surprises me. I've turned now, looking in her eyes, wondering how much she'll give me.

"If you just need sex, anyone will do. It doesn't have to be me. That's what I'm saying. Go to someone else, have at them. But not me. Let's just keep it easy between us."

But for all her words being tough and definite, her eyes show she's scared of how she feels right now. I make my voice stronger, more invasive, as I advance on her, running a hand around her waist to draw her to me. "Even if I need you?"

She trembles lightly, the weight of her choice about to burden her soul. "I'd never turn you away if you really need me. But I'm asking you not to need me in times like this. I don't want to be that deep with you."

"Too real for you, Annie honey?"

"Don't say it like that. That isn't fair."

"But it is the truth."

Her eyes close. She presses her body into mine, runs her arms around my neck. "I never promised anything about me was perfect. I can only go so far with anyone. No more. If you want to end the affair now, I'll be okay with it."

"No. Just wanted to be sure you were honest with me, Ann. Now I know."

"Now you know."

I'm careful to hold her until her heart stops racing. When she relaxes against me, I move to lead her to her bed but she stops me by pushing me back to sit on the edge of her tub. She studies my knuckles before grabbing bandages and a tube from her cabinet. Only two knuckles have small rough, oozing areas. She puts clear ointment on them and then clean white gauze before wrapping and taping them. I watch her steadiness and wonder about it.

"In the morning, we'll see how they look. Maybe just band aids then. Let me get some ice - it'll help with swelling or pain." Her voice is soft and empty, as if she feels nothing.

I wait for her to return with a cloth with ice chunks in it. She's taken the time to put her nightie back on. She sits next to me and holds the ice on my hand. I say, "You've done this before."

She glances up at me. "Ralph used to be a bit of a tough guy when we ... when he was younger. Yeah. I've got experience with mending the results. I never have liked it. Just so you know."

Ann wants to look away but won't. I let her see something in me I've kept hidden a long time. There's something new inside her eyes, too, as a result. She's beginning to care about my pain. I'm surprised to find it matters a lot to me that she can.

Like I said already, the longer this takes, the danger grows that someone will get in the way of my efforts to leave this place and time. I can't let anything distract me from winning on my own terms. Not this time.