Elizabeth Adams braked her car in the parking lot and nudged her husband, Rich. "Wake up, sleepy head, we're here." He didn't have to tell her he wasn't interested in the reenactment today. Sleeping was his escape. "I can't believe you fell asleep in the short distance from our hotel in Lead to here ... It's only like four miles!"

Rich opened one eye a crack, and peeked at her, then closed it, pretending to be asleep.

Pushing back a dirty, battered hat to the back of her head, she continued, "Seriously, Rich, come on."

"Yeah, well, this is your dream not mine. I'd rather sleep in the car until time for the parade." He pulled the flat-brimmed hat over his face.

"Silly, man," she said, snatching the hat from his face and tossing it onto his lap. "Come on. Get out of the car we don't have that much time to waste." Elizabeth threw open the door and stepped onto the black top, she glanced at Richard reluctantly doing the same. "Boy howdy, do you ever look good in that costume."

"Yeah right. Me the science teacher dressed up like this. I hope none of my students are in the area." He swept back his mid-back length brown hair and donned the hat. The day was a bit breezy up in the Black Hills of South Dakota. "Remind me again why I'm doing this, Lib?"

Walking up to his side, she playfully punched his upper arm. "You know why you're doing this. It's for me and you love me. Besides, your body looks great in that western suit," she laughed.

Arm in arm, they navigated the sidewalk leading to the steps of the Adams Museum. Libby dressed in old time men's clothing as Calamity Jane and Rich ... he depicted his great-great uncle, Wild Bill Hickok, two notorious characters in Deadwood's history.

Libby raced up the steps pulling Rich behind her. "Come on, there's something I have to check out before we go to the reenactment." They had tried tracing Rich's ancestry to the Adams of museum fame, but had come up empty handed.

"Libby, this is crazy."

She stopped on the top step and looked down at him. This man drove her crazy; he owned her heart and soul, emotionally as well as physically. Today he was getting on her nerves, but he did look sexy. Rich's dark brown hair and sleek mustache glistened in the sun, his bright blue eyes caught the light and the white lines radiating through his irises drew the breath from her. He looked so handsome in his eighteen hundreds attire, even better today than in past years--he looked the part. Maybe his age had something to do with it. This year, he was thirty-nine the same age as Wild Bill at the time of his death, killed in Nuttall & Mann's Saloon No. 10.

"Libby, this is nothing but a wild goose chase."

She shook her head, refusing to listen to him. "My book has to be accurate, Rich. If there are any inaccuracies, well, we've talked about this before, no one will believe my big disclosure!"

"Like anyone in this day and age really cares who killed my great-great uncle? They won't care that you think a member of the bad element hired Jack McCall to kill him."

Anger flared through her. "It does matter to me, it's my book, my thesis and by damn, I'm going in is museum to look for the journal. It's the last piece of the puzzle, Rich."

"You don't need it, Elizabeth! Your thesis is complete the way it is."

She blinked back tears.

"Okay, don't go getting all weepy on me, lets go find it, then head over to the reenactment. I can't wait for this day to be over. I'm sick of my role as Wild Bill at the No. 10 Saloon. I'm sick of dying year after year."

Sighing loudly, so she would know just how put out he felt, Rich moved to the landing and stood by her, wrapping his arm around her he spoke quietly into her ear. "I'm sorry Libby, I guess I should have slept last night instead of playing the slots until one this morning. Now that's been the fun part of this trip."

"I know Rich, so let's go in and get this over with. Before you know it, we'll be heading home tonight."

"Or in the morning," he laughed lightly, "I might feel lucky tonight and win a bundle on the machines."

"Yeah right, darling. You could hit the big one, but on nickels, it still would only add up to dinner at McDonalds." Libby narrowed her eyes and looked at him, "So you aren't as ready to head back to Laramie as you indicated?" She turned and opened the heavy entrance door to the Adam's Museum and stepped inside the cool atmosphere, walking to the back she took in displays of early writings, which stood encased in glass. This was not what she was looking for. The item she needed was in the room beyond. Reaching in her pocket, she removed the formal letter from the state curator allowing her in to the bowels of history.

"Come on Rich, I need your help," Libby spoke softly as she handed the letter to the woman assigned duty to protect the documents. After reading the letter, she granted them access into the inner sanctum of history.

"Okay Madame Professor, what are we looking for?"

Libby smiled and said, "A small book or journal written by a woman named Martha. Her working name was Wildflower. So, it could be either one. It's supposed to be a small diary with pressed flowers inside."

"Why didn't you ask the woman to help us find it when we came in?"

"No. It's ... well, it's not supposed to exist."

Rich leveled a stern gaze at her. "So we're looking for an elusive diary..."

"From all my research, Martha was one of the few women in early Deadwood that came here under false pretenses. She left her home and family, in the east, to come to a new life as a lady's maid to a wealthy family, but when she got here, she found the family was other working girls at the Gem Theater, and worse than that, she was owned like a pig by Al Swearington, the most vile man in the area. The diary will prove that Swearington was the man behind the bad element in Deadwood and that he had Wild Bill killed because all the unscrupulous business men were afraid he would clean up the town as he had done with other rough towns in the past."

"And if you find this documentation you can do what, Libby?" Rich asked softly. His easy demeanor filled her with love for him. He had been behind her project and her thesis would gain her the doctorate in history she had struggled to acquire over the years.

"Libby, look behind you, on the bookshelf. She turned and saw a tiny, glowing blue dried flower. "Rich, it has to be near."

They began looking for the diary and after an hour were ready to give up. "I don't think it's here, Lib," Rich said, pulling her from the search

"Just a minute. I have one more box to check."

"Lib..."

"Ah! Here it is Rich! It's the only thing in this box."

Libby gingerly removed the diary. It was cloth wrapped and tied with a faded blue ribbon.

Ever so gently, she untied the ribbon and let it gracefully fall away from the book, then she gently opened the cover.

"Oh God ... NO!"

"What's the matter, Libby?" Rich reached for the book.

"The pages ... there is nothing left, only blank pages and dry flowers. Everything of importance was ripped out of the book!"

As their fingers touched, the light in the room faltered. Libby's stomach lurched, but she continued to watch Rich's eyes. Suddenly, he disappeared. Poof. "Rich! No..." As the words flew from her lips, Libby looked down at herself as she dissolved into her surroundings. Everything turned black in her mind the moment she completely disappeared.