For the first time that I could remember, I boarded an airplane without anyone there to bid me farewell. Nothing so terrible about that, I told myself. I wasn't a child, after all. Far from it. There had been no one available among my friends and family to see me off, and so I drove my own car the sixty miles to the nearest airport large enough to accommodate a commercial airliner. That airport was located in Indianapolis, Indiana.

Because I had no one in particular to converse with, I wandered around from the gift shop to the store where you could purchase a magazine or book to read, waiting for the time when I was to board my flight. Having thirty minutes to kill after checking my luggage, I began to feel terribly alone for some reason. It was silly of me, and I told myself so. I would be returning in ten days to the aforementioned friends and family, and, at my destination, there were several friends anxiously, or so they said, awaiting my arrival.

By the time I boarded the plane, the sensation of being alone had so nearly overwhelmed me, I considered changing my plans, considered calling off the trip. But, my bags were already on the airplane, and there would be no way to retrieve them at the last minute. I fought down the urge to switch gears, and walked through the boarding tunnel. The flight attendant, a beautiful blond, smiled and took my ticket. "Miss Bailey," she said to me. "Welcome to Lake Central Airlines' flight 517. We'll be in Albuquerque in two and one half hours."

Two and a half hours, I reflected. It seemed unreal. It had been so long since I'd been to Albuquerque, I found it difficult to believe I would actually be there in such a short while. The veil of loneliness lifted a bit. There was no reason to be lonely. I loved Albuquerque! Loved New Mexico! I'd made my home there at one time, and was looking forward to the visit.

Chapter 1

Seated by the window in first class, I peered out at the Indianapolis airport. Departure time was five minutes away. Flight attendants rushed up and down the aisle. One leaned over to tell me would be leaving on schedule. I smiled at her. The seat next to me was unoccupied although the remainder of first class appeared to be full. Odd. Was I to travel to Albuquerque with no one to talk to? I laughed at myself. Ordinarily, I would be delighted to be spared the trouble of making conversation with a stranger. My slight reprieve from the feeling of being all alone in the world ended.

There was a commotion at the front door of the plane. I wondered to myself if something was happening which would delay our departure. Then, I heard a male flight attendant say, "Alright, Sir, you may board."

Evidently, there had been a controversy over whether a gentleman was going to be allowed on the flight so late. He had been granted permission it seemed. I watched a very tall, handsome man come through the door, and walk with long strides down the aisle. He took the seat next to me.

The boarding conveyance swung away from the airplane. That meant departure was imminent. I heard the jet engines fire. To my dismay, an attack of loneliness much worse than the first one hit me. I couldn't leave! I needed to go home! The plane began to taxi. This was ridiculous! If I wasn't careful, someone would notice my struggle to stay calm. We were at the end of the runway now, stopped, and waiting for takeoff.

"Are you alright, Ma'am?"

The man next to me was speaking. No doubt he wondered why I was squirming and gulping. I hated to look at him, or, rather, I hated to have him look at me. We hurdled down the runway. I glanced over at the man. "Yes, yes, I'm----uh, I'm alright. You, you're, oh my---"

It was one thing to be lonely, but it was quite another to be crazy. And that's what I was. Crazy. Nutty. Loony. All the words used to describe those

not in their right mind. I was seeing things that didn't exist. Well, not quite accurate. I wasn't seeing things that didn't exist, I was seeing people, or, rather, a person whom I knew didn't exist now, nor had he ever existed.

"You're---" I continued to babble.

The fellow observed me with beautiful hazel eyes. As I've stated, he was tall. His hair was black and thick. His eyebrows arched as he watched me.

"I'm Nick Barkley, Ma'am."

Nick Barkley! Of course! Nick Barkley from The Big Valley! Suddenly, I laughed aloud. "You had me going there for a minute," I said. "But thanks for taking the edge off during takeoff. It always makes me nervous."

The man grinned at me. The grin warmed my heart. "I'm happy to help, but what do you mean when you say I had you going? Do you mean you don't believe I'm Nick Barkley?"

It came to my mind that only a few moments earlier I'd believed I was crazy. I studied my companion. "Of course you're not Nick Barkley. Oh, your name could be Nick Barkley, I suppose, but you're not the Nick Barkley I thought for a minute you might be."

"Is that a fact!" the man exclaimed. "And what makes you think that?"

"Because that man doesn't exist. He was a fictional character in a television show thirty years ago."

He rared back and laughed. "Don't exist, huh? Take a good look at me, Ma'am. I exist, and I am Nick Barkley."

The plane leveled off. There came to my ears that cutting back of the engines power, and the relative quiet which followed. Lack of noise, however, did not clear my head. Sitting next to me there still was a man who looked like my favorite television character of all time, that being Nick Barkley from The Big Valley. It was possible, certainly, to see people who resembled other people. One saw them all of the time. You did not often run into folks who resembled fictional characters who claimed to be that character.

I turned to look out the window at the clouds drifting by. What was wrong with me? The feeling of being alone had disappeared to be replaced by a belief that I was sharing a flight with Nick Barkley. After a bit, I dared glance back at the man. He was fidgeting in his seat, acting restless and impatient, acting just like Nick Barkley.

"We'd better get this straightened out so we can have a decent relationship on this flight," I said.

His brows shot up and a devilish grin crossed his lips, and then the grin turned to a scowl. Horrified at myself for what had slipped out, I blushed. When I did, the man's scowl reverted to a grin. "What kind of relationship did you have in mind, Ma'am?"

My face on fire, I retorted, "I only meant we shouldn't go on playing this game. If you would admit you're not Nick Barkley, we could converse normally."

"Why should I admit to somethin' that's not true! I am Nick Barkley. Have always been and always will be. You recognized me. I don't know how. Lots of people have recognized me since I've been here. Don't quite see how they could, but maybe it's got somethin' to do with that television show you were just talkin' about."

I stared at him. For the first time, I noticed his attire was not modern. He wore a white shirt with ruffles and brown trousers which were of a style I'd never seen---except as worn by Nick Barkley on The Big Valley. This was surreal. And then something occurred to me. I laughed.

My companion's eyes twinkled. "Well, I'm glad to see you can laugh. You were bein' much too serious. By the way, has anybody ever told you you're beautiful when you laugh?"

I ignored his attempt to compliment me. "You're Peter Breck, aren't you?" I asked him, feeling triumphant, feeling like I'd solved a mystery and restored my sanity.

"Peter Breck? Who's Peter Breck?"

"You are!" I shot back at him. "That's why you look like Nick Barkley. Peter Breck played the role of Barkley and you are Peter Breck."

The man shook his head. "Ma'am--Would you mind tellin' me your name so I can stop callin' you Ma'am?"

"Jenny."

"Jenny. Well, Jenny, I don't know who this Breck fellow is, but I'm not him. I'm Nick Barkley."

Totally perplexed, I started to mount a further defense of my theory as to his real identity. And then a dose of reality hit me. Peter Breck wouldn't look like this! He was now thirty years older than he was when he played the role of Nick Barkley. Why, I'd just seen the man on television the other night!

He remained handsome, but he didn't look like a man in his thirties anymore. I withdrew from the discussion to once again stare out the window.

"Aren't you gonna argue with me anymore, Jenny?"

"There's no use," I replied, not looking at him. "Not as long as you insist upon this charade."

He put out his hand and placed it under my chin. Turning my head to face him, he said, "Jenny, I hate this. I've managed to get through my time here fairly well, but I've not met anyone like you. For some reason, I want to tell you the truth, tell you where I've been and where I'm going."

It registered in my mind something he'd said, not once, but twice. "I asked him to explain it. "Twice you've said something about your time here, since you've been here, getting through your time here, what do you mean?"

He grinned at me again. "It sounds like you're beginning to accept who I am."

"Just tell me what you mean by that," I said, afraid I was going to melt under his gaze.

Drawing a deep breath, he spoke. "I came here, uh, to your time, in a capsule. I've been here, oh, two years or so, seein' how folks live these days."

If there had been any doubts about my sanity, those doubts were now history. I wasn't playing with a full deck, my elevator was no longer reaching the top floor. If the window could have been opened, I would have leaped out with the certainty that the world would be better off without me.

"That can't be true," I said.

"But it is," he said. "A fellow back, well, back in my time, talked me into it. It sounded exciting."

"And has it been?" I asked, feeling stupid.

Smiling warmly, he answered. "Well, now, it's a fact there have been some exciting things. Just the way you can get from place to place so fast is exciting. I was used to ridin' a horse. A horse aint nearly as fast, but there's somethin' to be said for ridin' along on a horse, enjoyin' the scenery and the fresh air. 'Course the scenery was different in my time, not as many buildings clutterin' things up. More open space. Why, on the ranch we had acres----"

"Yes, I know," I heard myself say.

"You know!" he responded, eyebrows arched again.

"I, uh, well, you and your family were on television."

"Oh, yea," he nodded. "The Big Valley, was it?"

"Yes, The Big Valley. It was my favorite. You were my favorite."

"Oh?" he grinned. "Well, that will make it easier."

He had placed his hand over mine. "Easier?" I questioned.

"Easier for you to go back with me, Jenny. You're free to do that, aren't you? You're not married?"

What on earth was he talking about? "No, I'm not married."

"Good. That's settled then."

"Settled?"

"Yea, settled. When we get to Albuquerque, we'll rent a car, drive up toward Los Alamos where the capsule's waitin' to take me back. They said I could take someone back with me if I wanted. That someone is you, Jenny. Go back to my time with me. Mother, Audra, Jarrod, Heath and Eugene will love you. Go back with me to The Big Valley."

Epilogue

I awoke to the flickering of the computer screen. It took me a minute to realize where I was or why. When I did, I let loose with a scream which brought my husband running.

"What's wrong, Jenny?" he asked me.

"What's wrong? What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong. I went to sleep in this chair after the chat with Peter Breck ended. I wanted to watch that new T.V. show tonight, and now I've missed it."

My husband shook his head. "You didn't miss anything. It wasn't much. How was the chat with Peter Breck?"

"Great," I told him.

"Good. At least he's real. That Nick Barkley guy you like so much is just fiction."

"Yea, just fiction," I said, turning my head so he couldn't see my smile. "Just fiction from another time."