Free OverTime 1 - Searching (Time Travel) by Yvonne Jocks Page A

head. "You 've had yerself some education."
    "So have you," I countered, intrigued.
    He leaned easily off his horse toward me, so that it seemed our shoulders almost brushed, and glanced both ways with mock furtiveness. "Let's jest keep that between us two."
    My grin seemed to gratify him. He sat back as if to better see me and shook his head. "Seems we could find somethin ' better to call you than 'that purdy l'il thing what the Boss brought in.'  Anything in particular you'd fancy bein' called, leastwise 'til we find your proper title?"
    I said, "Not Martha."
    "Fair enough," Benj agreed, not missing a beat. "And we'll avoid Gertrude and Hortense for good measure; how's that?"
    "And… Winifred. " But my eyes searched out the distant herd yet again. They were a patchwork of different colors, with horns—a sea of long, curvy horns that made me glad I still hadn't seen them up close. The cowboys rode dangerously close to them though, paralleling the slow parade, sometimes urging an escapee cow back to its friends. I didn't recognize any of their horses.
    "And Sophronia," teased Benj, recapturing my attention. "I never could warm up to a Sophronia."
    I made myself stop watching the cattle drive for familiarity, once and for all. Why bother? I clearly didn't know cows, and I had better company right here, right? "And Snooki."
    That surprised him. From his expression I could see he 'd never heard the name. I closed my eyes and hung onto my saddle horn as everything became so unreal I felt dizzy, as if—were I not careful—I could disintegrate into nothingness at any moment. Disintegrating seemed a bad idea. Benj's hand on my elbow brought me back to what was reality, though—cows, horses, a wagon, a dead boy's set of clothes, and real, live men. Cowmen.
    Something was so wrong .
    "I 'm sorry," I whispered. "You're really helping, but I wish I could remember more myself! It's been like this since he found me—I say things that don't make sense, and then I feel so stupid...."
    "Jacob Garrison tends to have that effect on folks," he assured me dryly, releasing my arm for a friendly pat on my shoulder. "Little bit of sunshine like you—I 'm surprised that ol' judge didn't scare you clear into Colorado."
    There it was again—the whisper of familiarity. "Little bit...."
    He waited, and I shook my head. "It's silly, but that almost sounds like a name."
    "Ain 't so strange at that." He considered. "Littlebit. How's Lillabit sound?"
    It sounded... nice. Oh, it still wasn 't my name—not quite —but it was more identity than I'd had in two days. I was Lillabit, an educated young woman from the east!
    Well, I could be. I beamed my thanks.
    "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Lillabit," said Benj with a return grin, bowing toward me from his horse. "Now, Miss Lillabit, jest how long has it been since you had yourself some vittles?"
    Very useful company, this man.
    So we caught up to the chuck wagon, which looked like a covered wagon minus the cover. I mean, it had hoops for a cover arching over it, like empty ribs, maybe so that they could put the top up in bad weather? But it currently sat open to the elements, riding higher on its wood and metal wheels than seemed natural and piled higher yet with what looked like sleeping bags— bedrolls , I reminded myself.  On the outside of its wooden bed hung barrels and boxes and pots, rattling and clattering, and the back end was built up with what looked like a chest of drawers. Four lanky, long-eared horses with funny-looking noses pulled it, and a dour man with pale hair drove it.
    Benj introduced that one as Schmidty, the burly old cook, and raised the sack he 'd been nursing as we rode. "Jacob done brought you some treats."
    Schmidty just eyed me with suspicion.
    Benj balanced the bag on his saddle in front of him, untied the strings, and opened it. "Hoo-whee!" he exclaimed happily. "Lookee here! Carrots, and squash, and what looks to be a passel of green beans. Onions...there's