Time Scout by Robert Asprin & Linda Evans

Someplace where he could talk to the people who’d already talked to her.

”Right Back to the Down Time.”

She transferred the hateful suitcase to her other hand, eyed the vast stretch of Commons she had to re-cross, and groaned aloud.

”Consider it training in physical endurance,” she told herself. The scent of food wafting out into the Commons from various restaurants was nearly more than Margo could bear. She was sorely tempted to stop for a good hot meal, but didn’t want the trail to grow any colder than it already had.

You’ll see, she told a host of nay-sayers, beginning with that pig of a high-school guidance counselor, moving on to Billy-the-rat-Pandropolous and ending inevitably-with her father. Hateful, hurtful words rang in her ears, retaining the power to injure long after the bruises had healed. Just you watch. You’ll see. Margo’s eyes burned. She blinked back the tears. Small towns were terrible places to grow up with world-sized dreams-especially when those dreams were the only things you had left to hold onto. She was scared to death of Kit Carson already-had clung to this dream so long she was afraid to have it shattered, too. But the clock was ticking and Margo wasn’t a quitter. No, by God, she wasn’t. Just standing here was proof of that. Margo narrowed her eyes. All right, Kit Carson. Ready or not, here I come.

She closed in on the Down Time Bar & Grill.

Kit ducked under the girders and stepped across the Down Time’s threshold

”Hey!” Malcolm called from a crowded, jovial table. “Did you meet her?”