OverTime 03: Slipping (First 70 Chapters)

Chapter 13: Sleep and Other Deprivations (Lillabit)

Tired....

Combine pregnancy with having lost a night's sleep, and my exhaustion hit red levels. I'd had three swallows of coffee after lunch, three beautiful gulps of hot, caffeinated splendor, before pouring the rest out into the dirt in fear for my pregnancy.

It wasn't even close to enough.

Must. Sleep.

But here's the problem. My recent attempt at napping in the chuck wagon ended with me choosing between Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia flavor and their Chunky Monkey. Not in a fantasy way, but seemingly in a one-breath-from-standing-there-for-real way. I missed ice cream... but not enough to take a one-way trip to get some.

These near-slip dreams had only happened twice. Twice in two days, but still. Maybe it was nothing...

And maybe it was a great big something. Did I want to take the risk on three being a time-traveling charm?

Must. Not. Sleep.

By late afternoon, I was walking instead of riding. It's easier to stay awake shambling along than sitting on a cart, even a bumpy one, beside a warm, supportive friend. I hardly dared lift my feet as I shuffled forward, because I'd started to doze off and stumbled several times while I walked. I'd even fallen down once.

It messes up the rhythm of "I am safe and happy in 1878. I am safe and happy in 1878" if you face-plant in the middle of the word "safe."

Luckily, I didn't land on any cactus, cow pies, or rattlesnakes. The one rattlesnake I did come across, I stared at dumbly until it got bored, stopped buzzing at me, and slithered away in serpentine defeat.

Amos expressed concern at my state, but I couldn't tell him more than that I didn't want to nap. Which felt like lying.

He wasn't the kind of guy to challenge me on that.

So what to do? Eventually, I would have to sleep. Surely lack of rest posed an even greater risk to my pregnancy than caffeine. But at the very point when I needed a brilliant solution, my brain had gone off-line.

Benj, riding ahead from the herd as the chuck wagon stopped for the day, took one look at me and showed Amos exactly where to pitch my tent for the night.

A few beats later than made sense, I registered what he said and I looked up at him on his horse. "I think Jacob only wanted the tent up that once, for the storm."

That's what I'd feared, anyway. I didn't want to sleep in the chuck wagon, where nobody could see me, nobody could shout a warning if I started to... what. Fade away?

I'd never seen anyone actually time slip, and had difficulty remembering my own experience, what with the torture and all.

"I don't give a good--" Benj bit off whatever he'd been going to end with, there. Instead, he tried, "My darlin' Mrs. Garrison, you jest let me handle my partner on this matter. You need to sleep."

"I'll sleep when everyone else does." Translation: When Jacob does. No, it didn't make total sense. Jacob may be hella competent as a trail boss, but even he might not excel at subverting the laws of physics. Still, I'd gone beyond making complete sense.

Maybe I thought love (mine) could conquer all. Or maybe--just in case--I wanted my last memory of this place to be my husband, on his bedroll beside me, and not a bunch of dirty bedrolls in a wagon bed.

Benj cocked his handsome head. "As your husband would remind us, you ain't everyone else."

True. Nobody else risked waking up in 21st century Chicago. But I didn't say that. Instead, I tried to smile. "You're a good friend, Benj Cooper."